


Getting Used to Change

by memeberd



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey
Genre: :3c, Gen, Sneedly Triplets AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-11-15 18:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memeberd/pseuds/memeberd
Summary: (This takes place in an AU and ALSO after the first movie.)George Beard, the kid with the flat top and tie, and Harold, the kid with the t-shirt and bad haircut, (remember that now) adapt to their new life  having separate classes thanks to lousy Mr. Krupp.(THIS IS BEING REWRITTEN AND WILL NO LONGER GET ANY MORE CHAPTERS. SORRY!)(Here's the link to the new one in case yer lost! the story has taken a different shape so it won't be like rereading the same exact thing i promise!!)https://archiveofourown.org/works/12080994





	1. Chapter 1

It was a Sunday night, May 21st. After having more time to think, George and Harold thought themselves lucky to get separated into different classes so close to the end of the school year. Since the moment Mr. Krupp had enforced the new law, it was something that occupied the creative minds of Mr. Beard and Mr. Hutchins enough to distract the two best friends from what they normally did together; making comics and doing things to make eachother laugh in general.

George and Harold had persuaded their caring parents into letting them spend their Sunday nights together in the treehouse ever since they broke the news that Mr. Krupp had placed Harold into a new class. Which was that Friday. The chilly 40 degree air had crept in a few hours after the sun went down and the two little boys were snuggled close for warmth. They shared two sleeping bags.

“I mean, it really wasn’t that big of a deal,” George said, voice quiet.

“Yeah! We live like right next to each other.” Harold whispered back. 

George was overtaken by a fit of giggles. “What was Mr. Krupp even thinking? Is he just gonna follow us around during lunch and recess makin’ sure we’re not near eachother too??” Harold snickered through his nose.

They stopped giggling.

“Would he do that?” Harold asked.

“Gosh, I hope not.” 

They stayed silent.

“Well, look, we got ‘till June and then school’s out for the summer!” George piped back up. He smiled at Harold and patted his hand. Harold sighed.

“Yeah, but… That’s so far away George,” 

“No it’s not!” George sat up, he was trying to remain optimistic. “Look at it this way, we only got let’s see… Half a month, and then one more month! We only got a month and a half of school left!”

Harold groaned, kicking under his sheets a little. “George, months are _long!!”_

Harold spoke the truth, months had too many days in them. And so did half-months. George had nothing now. He forcefully flopped onto his fluffy headed friend. Harold made a grunting noise comparable to an old creaky bed. “I know they’re long Harold I was trying to look at the bright side of it!”

Harold exhaled. “George you’re deflating me”

“What are you gonna do about it, cheeseball?” George goaded before prodding Harold’s sides. Harold yelped and cackled as George tickled him more. _Two could play at this game, Mr. Beard._ Harold dug his toes into George’s sides and wiggled them as best he could. George squirmed and laughed obnoxiously with Harold now. The only way the fight could continue was if George endured the attacks from Harold’s freakishly nimble toes; if he restrained Harold’s legs, Harold would still have his hands and George wouldn’t.

 _“I will be pushed around no more!”_ Harold exclaimed through laughter as he slid the sole of his right foot onto George’s stomach and pushed him backwards. _Ah,_ sweet relief from the light yet torturous attack on his sides. George fell out of their sleeping bags and shivered on his back.

“The shock of being shoved out of those blankets into 40 degree air is too much!” George said, teeth chattering despite the fact that 40 degrees wasn’t _really_ that cold. Harold outstretched his arms, both sleeping bags draped on them like wings, then he flopped ontop of George. George made a choking sound that caused both boys to start giggling again. 

They were finally tired enough to fall asleep. As their giggles died down, their eyelids fell shut. Harold buried his face into George’s shoulder, George could hear him start to snore. They did always fall asleep faster when they were close. When George was half asleep, Harold spoke, muffled by George’s shoulder. “I’m still really scared about tomorrow.”

“You were snoring like three seconds ago,” George groggily blurted, “you’ll be okay, Harold.” 

Harold lifted his head off of George’s shoulder. “I was snoring? No I wasn’t!”

George chuckled. “Yeah, you were!”

“I don’t snore.”

“How would you know that?”

“I don’t snore!” Harold repeated. 

Harold’s smile went away when he noticed they went completely off topic.

“Wait, but George, I’m _really scared_ about tomorrow-”

“C’mere,” George pulled Harold back down and pet his soft hair. “You got nothin’ to worry about. You’re strong Harold, you can fight your way through this.”

Harold was snoring again.

George enjoyed the subjects being taught at school. If he understood them, of course, but he knew Harold had a harder time paying attention than he did. George absentmindedly twirled a lock of Harold’s curly hair. He was worried about Harold, too. What if someone started picking on Harold in his new class? George wouldn’t be able to do squat while it was happening! Or, what if Harold’s grades started suffering…?

This really _was_ much worse than they had initially thought, George concluded. This was an absolute injustice to him and Harold, and not only because they were going to be apart during class now. 

George gulped, and his stomach burned with frustration until he heard another small snore against his shoulder. He couldn’t stay anxious with Harold so close to him. George, being only nine and also being raised by Christian parents, always believed there was a God. He didn't pray often, but he silently prayed that Harold would be okay by himself before finally falling asleep.

**___**

Mrs. Beard had agreed to coming outside and making sure the boys were awake this round. She made her way to the treehouse and stopped at the ladder. She was too tired to climb it, but if she needed to, she’d go up there.

“Boys,” Mrs. Beard called to the treehouse, “it’s time to get up and get ready for school today!”

George responded to the sound of his mother in less than a second. His head shot up from where it once rested, atop Harold’s head. While they were sleeping, their position had changed quite a bit. Eugh, his mouth had been open, and it felt like he drooled in Harold’s hair. Sorry, buddy. George wiped his mouth and called back, “Okay, mom! We’ll be down in a second,” 

Harold stretched and yawned.

“You awake, Harol?” George tiredly asked.

“Mm,” Harold responded.

“We gotta get up,” he said, ruffling Harold’s hair and feeling his own drool in it. “AGH!” George retracted his hands and wiped them on his shirt.

“What’s wrong?”

“I, may or may not have have drooled in your hair while we were asleep.” George confessed.

Harold sat up now. “George!” Harold whined. “Now I have to take a shower and get your drool out of my hair!”

“Sorry,”

“It’s okay. It’s just drool.” Harold assured him with a shrug. “Hi Mrs. Beard!” Harold waved to someone behind George.

George turned to see half of his mother in the entrance of their treehouse. She snatched him up and slung him over her shoulder. “Good morning, Harold.” She said cooly. “You'd better get inside before your mom comes to grab you next.”

Harold’s mom would be mad if she had to grab him, he thought as Mrs. Beard climbed back down the ladder with her son on her shoulder.

“G-good idea.” Harold said before scrambling out of the two sleeping bags and into the crisp morning air. He tiredly exited the treehouse, almost falling off the trash can on his way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me if Mr. Krupp's ever torn the wings off a butterfly before, that's all on Dav. 
> 
>  
> 
> (No butterflies, real OR fictional, were harmed during the making of this chapter)

The rest of that morning before arriving at Jerome Horwitz consisted of battling with feelings of separation anxiety, a quick hair wash for Harold, and then the two little boys rejoined in George’s mom’s car after breakfast and teeth brushing. For a good fifteen minutes, they forgot that they wouldn’t be sitting next to eachother in class for a while. Instead of worrying about what their academic lives would be like from now on, they got overly excited when whoever was running the radio station Mrs. Beard put on had the gall to play Bring Me To Life by Evanescence as if it wasn’t a joke to most of the human race at this point.

Yes, George Beard and Harold Hutchins had the whole song memorized as well so they could dramatically sing it whenever a situation like this occurred. It was moving, a truly stellar duet. Evanescence only wishes they could do what fourth graders Harold Hutchins and George Beard have done.

Finally, realization hit them like an angry mob pelting them with stones as soon as Mrs. Beard pulled up into the parking lot of Jerome Horwitz Elementary. It didn’t help watching the rest of their peers filing in like a line of zombies. George and Harold shared grim looks.

“Have a good day at school, you two.” Mrs. Beard said from the driver’s seat. Harold sighed at the painful irony of her statement.

“Thanks mom,” George said. He and Harold looked at eachother one more time as they snatched up their backpacks and put them on. Harold opened the door, the two little fourth graders uneasily slid out of the car.

 _“George!”_ Mrs. Beard yelled from the rolled down passenger’s window.

George and Harold turned to face her. “What?” George called.

“I love you!” She smiled and started to drive away. George heated up and covered his face.

“George,” Harold said, getting his friend’s attention. “Are _you_ ready to go in there?” He asked.

“Heck no,” George said, grabbing Harold’s hand and squeezing it. “But we gotta go in anyway.”

“They’ll have to physically peel us away from eachother.” Harold said as they entered the line hand in hand.

“We’re not lettin’ go.” George said, squeezing Harold’s hand again. Harold squeezed tighter.

“Me too.”

They looked at eachother and giggled.

As George and Harold approached the entrance of Jerome Horwitz, they inched closer and closer until they were right outside the double doors and pressed hard into eachother, still holding hands. The surrounding children watched them, they heard the teachers talking about how Harold Hutchins and George Beard were being placed in different class rooms and “how much more peaceful Jerome Horwitz would be without those two troublemakers together.” But now that they saw how George and Harold clung to eachother, they knew it was true.

Oh, and it so was much worse than they imagined.

Instead of just letting everyone go about the day like it was normal, there was a huge banner hanging up for everyone to see that said “ **FAREWELL, HAROLD! -Signed Ms. Ribble** ”

George and Harold groaned, Harold’s face turning bright red.

“Did they really have to do that?” Harold asked, sounding pained.

“Maybe it’s a different Harold. Maybe Ms. Ribble had a boyfriend named Harold and she’s healthily celebrating her breakup with him.” George said.

Harold looked at George. “Who would want to date Ms. Ribble?”

George thought for a moment. “Good point.” He said.

They saw a teacher walk by with a party hat on.

“Somebody’s birthday?” Harold asked as they continued down the hallway, still pressed into eachother like conjoined twins.

“Yeah, that sounds reasonable.” George said.

“Hey, guys…” Tommy said as he approached his locker and opened it.

George and Harold stopped and collectively turned as one unit to face Tommy.

“Tommy, what’s goin’ on??” George asked.

“Yeah, do you know what’s happening here? That teacher was wearing a party hat!” Harold added.

Tommy’s eyes widened with sympathy. “Can’t you guys tell? The teachers are all celebrating-!” His mouth shut and he stepped into his locker completely before shutting himself in.

George sucked in a sharp breath. “I know what that means, _that means someone’s behind us.”_

“This is like an actual nightmare!” Harold shouted before he and George once again turned around together to see Mr. Krupp smiling down at them.

“Of course it’s you!” George motioned to their principal with his free hand.

“Yes, it’s me, boys, surprise surprise!” Mr. Krupp whimsically wiggled his hands before scowling and pointing at them. “What do you two think you’re doing.”

“What’s with the party hat?” George asked.

“And that thingy in your hand?” Harold pointed.

“Oh, this?” Mr. Krupp raised the noise maker in his hand to his lips and blew into it. It unfurled and made an unfittingly cheerful noise for the situation. “The staff and I thought it would be fun to celebrate _the separation of George Beard and Harold Hutchins.”_ He said with a malicious grin, looking down on the two boys infront of him. “You know I’m not one for _celebrating things_ at school, but today is just such a significant day. We practically had to.”

George and Harold tried to press harder into eachother. They physically couldn’t, but George stepped on Harold’s foot to try and compensate for that.

“Do you two even know what the word ‘separation’ means?” Asked Mr. Krupp, sounding a little disgusted at the display of sheer love and dependency by the two little boys infront of him.

“You’re gonna have to tear us apart like pullin’ the wings off an innocent butterfly, Mr. Krupp!” George retaliated.

“George he’s probably pulled the wings off a butterfly before,” Harold whispered.

“I’ll _gladly_ do that!” Mr. Krupp seethed. He dropped his noise maker and grasped the wrists of George and Harold’s free hands. He easily made some distance between them, dragging them apart until their arms tensed. The two hands that kept them together desperately squeezed tighter. George and Harold screamed. It was the only thing they could do since Mr. Krupp had the strength of Captain Underpants. Mr. Krupp grunted, the boys were holding hands pretty tightly, did they glue themselves together?? _“Did you two glue yourselves together?”_

“YES! PLEASE GIVE UP!” Harold lied.

Nearby students watched before hurrying on their way, it was bizarre to see a grown man forcefully pull two screaming little boys apart from eachother. Krupp continued to pull while George and Harold struggled to squeeze tighter, their knuckles ached from how hard they were gripping eachother’s hands.

 _“Just, let, go!”_ Mr. Krupp growled, pulling tighter.

“We’d rather have our shoulders dislocated!!” George shouted back, voice sounding strained.

 _“That’s what’s going to happen if you don’t let go, bubs!”_ Mr. Krupp warned.

Uh-oh, their grip was starting to slip, it looked like Mr. Krupp was going to win.

“Don’t you let go of me, Harold!” George pleaded, voice sounding more strained.

“My hands are sweating!” Harold cried.

_“Come on, Harold!”_

_“George, I can’t!”_

Mr. Krupp rolled his eyes and yanked one final time. Harold and George lost eachother’s hands. They shouted and reached for eachother.

“Absolutely ridiculous, you two.” Mr. Krupp scolded before dropping George and turning to walk in the direction he came, still holding Harold by his arm. 

_“George!”_ Harold sounded so pained.

Mr. Krupp gave Harold a special nasty glare. Harold looked down and sniffled, wiping his still-white-knuckled sweaty hand off on his t shirt. He looked like he was about to cry.

“Wait, _what are you doing with Harold?”_ George scrambled to his feet and followed Mr. Krupp. “Stoppit! Put him down!!”

 _“I know you two,_ I’m taking him to his new class.”

George darted infront of Mr. Krupp. He jumped to grab onto Harold’s ankles and Mr. Krupp lifted him out of George’s reach. _“Set him down!”_ George repeated himself.

 _“Watch it, bub!_ You’ve got alotta’ nerve.” Mr. Krupp balled up his free hand and placed it on his hip. “If this is gonna be a daily thing from you two, I’m suspending one of you for a week.” 

George followed Mr. Krupp and Harold all the way to Harold’s new classroom. Room 18.

Mr. Rected, who was also dawning a party hat on his head, (and a nice glittery bowtie, it looked almost brand new) stood in the doorway to receive Harold from Mr. Krupp. Mr. Krupp held Harold out to him.

“He’s all yours now, Earl.”

“Thanks, Ben.” Mr. Rected (whose first name is _Earl)_ grabbed onto Harold’s arm and smiled at both Mr. Krupp and Harold before backing up with the fluffy headed boy and closing the door. Mr. Krupp turned around to face George now. He leaned forward and took a huge step, encouraging George to step backwards.

“What do _you_ want, bub? You want me to carry you to class too? Get outta here!” Mr. Krupp frowned deeply and continued to walk at George until he turned and ran to class. Room 3.

 

**___**

George sat down in his desk, Harold’s old seat caught his eye. He couldn’t help but wistfully stare, imagining what it’d look like if Harold was sitting there.

“George?” A nasal voice said from the front of the class.

George looked ahead of himself. “What do you want, Melvin?” He snapped.

“I, I had no idea Mr. Krupp would separate you two…” Melvin said, nervously avoiding eye contact until his sentence was finished. George’s expression softened for a moment before glaring again.

“Well, that’s what happens when you put extra credit over the feelings of others.” George said. “You ruin everything.”

Melvin’s eyes widened before he scowled back. He scoffed a little. “It’s not my fault completely! Maybe if you two weren’t so obnoxious and immature then I wouldn’t have had to tell on you so much!”

George felt himself gripping at his tie. “You better watch your big mouth, Melvin, before I pound it shut myself.”

Melvin gasped and turned around in his seat. Whoops. That was _supposed_ to be an apology, but the _opposite_ of an apology happened. _Dangit, Sneedly!_

The door opened and Ms. Ribble entered the moderately noisy classroom.

“Okay, class.” Ms. Ribble said, her ragged voice sounding more peppy than usual despite her face looking just as bland and emotionless as always. She, like her fellow staff members, wore a party hat atop her already conical beehive. “Can you all guess why today is so special?” 

George sighed again, allowing his face to touch his desk. Nobody said anything, and oddly enough, neither did Melvin Sneedly who _loved_ raising his hand and answering everything. And it was pretty obvious everyone in the classroom knew the answer to Ms. Ribble’s question.

The rest of the class that had their heads up and looking in the direction of the teacher shivered at Ms. Ribble’s growing smile.

_“George,”_

George’s head whipped up from his desk.

“I bet _you_ know why today is so special.” Her smile was growing wider and wider. George’s stomach dropped. “Why don’t you come up to the front of the class and tell everyone.” George was now certain he no longer even had a stomach at this point. Wait, no, there it was. It was _rising_ now.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” George said before getting up and running out of the room. He felt everyone’s eyes on him. He heard Ms. Ribble’s fading delighted laugh and even the pop of a single party popper from the gap inbetween the door and the doorway as he sped up his pace in an attempt to keep from throwing up on the waxed tile floor.

Ten minutes later, George was back. It seemed as if everything was finally back to normal now, aside from the party hat still on Ms. Ribble’s beehive. He couldn’t pay attention to what Ms. Ribble was saying, he kept staring at Harold’s old desk. It simply wasn’t fair. Harold should have kept the class with Melvin in it! In that case he’d be able to cheat off of Melvin’s desk, the nerd sat right infront of them after all. Sure, cheating was _“bad,”_ but that was what Harold usually did when he couldn’t understand what topic they were going over. Which was unfortunately most of the time. Maybe Mr. Krupp somehow knew this and arranged the class change that way _on purpose._ George closed his eyes, swallowing a lump in his throat. He’d cry if he kept thinking about this. God, he missed Harold so much and they were only a few feet away from eachother.

**POP!**

The entire class jumped at the sound, but George jumped the hardest.

Ms. Ribble was holding another party popper. “Eyes up here, Mr. Beard.” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe Mr. Rected's first name is Earl.


	3. Chapter 3. Chapter 3? Chapter 3, Chapter 3! Chapter 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heh, heh. Mr. _E. Rected...._

Harold plopped down into his new seat, thankfully there was one near the window so he could longingly stare out of it at passing cars and squirrels. He did just that for a moment before closing his eyes. He’d rather be staring at George right now…

“Uh,” Said a familiar nasally voice before the owner cleared his throat and he softly tapped at Harold’s shoulder. 

Harold perked up, eyes opening back up and he turned to face whoever it was. He definitely looked confused to see a face that belonged to Melvin wearing the wrong glasses. And right next to him was another Melvin look-alike! As Harold took in more of the kids’ appearances, they both looked like Melvin in the wrong clothes!

The one closest to Harold smiled a peculiarly friendly looking smile before easing back into his chair and waving at Harold. The one farthest of Harold busied himself with a weighty book.

“Hi, Harold! You’re in our class now!” The closer one was _awfully_ excited for- Oh wait.

That’s right, these were Melvin’s brothers, _Marvin and Lewis!_ It was really confusing how they all looked alike, however, Harold found it amusing that Lewis was the odd brother out without a name that started with an M. Harold wasn’t amused right now, though. He slouched in his seat.

“Oh, that’s great, Lewis.” It wasn’t great. It was weird because Marvin and Lewis were very quiet compared to their brother. Harold thought for a moment, the Sneedlys didn’t really hang out with anyone. Whenever he and George saw them, Marvin would be trailing behind Melvin and Lewis, or they would be working on a contraption together. The most Marvin ever talked was when he and his brothers were displaying their newest doo-hickeys at the invention convention. And now, Harold was sitting right next to these two.

“I’m Marvin.” Marvin thoughtfully covered his mouth before speaking again. “You look awfully glum.”

Harold glared at him. Marvin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Please don’t look at me like that, I know why. Lewis and Melvin do, too.” The nerd continued. Harold’s scowl faded away and his eyes ghosted back in the direction of the window. “You know, it’s really not that bad, being in separate classes and all.”

“That’s easy for you to say, your other brother’s a real jerk.”

Marvin didn’t want to talk about that. “I was the one who made the Tattle Turtle, you know.”

Harold’s eyes flashed back to Marvin. “You _what??”_

Marvin raised his hands like Harold was lunging at him. Lewis was watching them now. “It was Melvin’s design! But I still made it for him because he was so busy finishing up the Binder Binder! I’m really sorry, Harold. Lewis and I are both sorry. Right Lewis?”

Lewis nodded his head affirmatively. “Mhm, mhm, mhm.” He said.

“If I had known what our brother was planning to do with the Tattle Turtle 2000 I-”

_“Alright,_ I forgive you guys. And I smell those sour candies in your backpack.” Harold’s expression brightened a little, lifting a weight off of Marvin’s shoulders. “If you give me the whole bag, I’ll spare you from any of George and me’s... George and, uh,” 

“That would be _‘George’s and my,’_ I believe.” Lewis piped up. Gosh, it was weird how all three of them practically had the same voice.

_“Our_ future pranks. For a week.” Harold knew Marvin understood what he meant. They stared at eachother in silence a moment. Marvin was still smiling. He wanted longer than a week. “Okay a whole month, the rest of the school year.”

“Lewis and Melvin, too?” Marvin asked.

Harold thought for a moment. “Lewis.”

Marvin sighed. “You got yourself a deal, Hutchins.” Marvin dug into his backpack and pulled out a brand new bag of sour gummy worms. He carefully tossed them onto Harold’s desk. Harold excitedly giggled. Marvin turned to face Lewis who was giving him a disapproving look. “You should know I have more in here.” He said, patting his backpack.

“Alright, alright..” Lewis went back to his book.

_“Yes!”_ Harold fist pumped. “I wonder how George is doing right now,” Harold thoughtfully put the bag away to share with George during lunch later.

“Okay, class.” Mr. Rected said over the noise of the classroom. The room full of kids didn’t seem to hear him. _“Your attention, please!”_ The chatter amongst the children died down. That was Harold’s cue to stare longingly out the window. “Before we begin, I bet you’re all wondering why I along with the rest of the teachers are dressed so festively.” _The only thing different about him was his party hat and glittery bowtie._ “Well, today is a very important day.” Mr. Rected mused to the students. “And luckily for all you, _Harold; your new classmate,_ can tell you why.”

Marvin sank into his chair as the rest of their class focused on the fluffy headed boy sitting one row back from the front, far from the door and infront of a window. Lewis set his book down and looked in Harold’s direction as well. He cleared his throat. Marvin coughed. Harold fortunately didn’t notice. If all of his brainpower wasn’t being put into staring wistfully out that window, he’d be able to feel everyone’s eyes on him. 

Mr. Rected tapped his foot on the floor. “Harold!”

“Huh?” Harold looked at Mr. Rected like a deer caught in the headlights. _Uh-oh,_ he could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Mr. Rected’s irritated expression melted into a cool smile.

“I bet you know why today is so special. Why don’t you come up infront of the class and explain to everyone why us teachers are celebrating?”

Harold gulped, stomach feeling like taffy in a taffy puller. He shrank in his seat and crossed his legs. “I dunno,” Harold said, silently tapping his fingers on his desk. “I don’t feel so good…”

“Don’t be shy.” Mr. Rected said, sidling up to his own desk and sitting down at it. “Come on up.”

Harold Hutchins, stomach now a _raging ball of fire,_ did as he was told. If George were here, they would have done something by now. But what could Harold do? His mind ran at a million miles an hour as he made his way to the front of the class. He stared at all his peers and they all stared back at him. Their eyes spoke silent condolences, well, Lewis went back to his book, but that didn’t help Harold’s situation at all. Harold grabbed at one of his fingers and rubbed the print side with his thumb. “Um,” was all Harold could say.

There was a screeching sound of the intercom coming to life for Mr. Krupp’s use. Harold had never been happier to hear the noise. “Good morning, Jerome Horwitz!” Mr. Krupp said with the enthusiasm of a cheery radio host. The school’s secretary, Ms. Anthrope, could be heard laughing and hollering as well. Harold sighed and covered his face. He could tell Mr. Krupp was about to do what Harold was just told to a few seconds ago. He headed back for his seat and sat down. “Today marks a very important moment in all of this very school’s existence,” an excited giggle escaped him before he continued to speak. “You may not all know this,” Oh, _they do,_ “but two of our students, after years and years of pulling senseless and unnecessary pranks on student and teacher alike, have been… _Separated.”_ Another excited giggle bubbled out of Mr. Krupp.

“We could call it the Great Liberation from George and Harold!” Ms. Anthrope could be heard suggesting on the intercom before bursting into laughter. Their laughs rang throughout all of Jerome Horwitz, along with the sound of Ms. Anthrope’s coffee cup being pounded against Mr. Krupp’s desk.

Mr. Krupp audibly wiped away a tear. “I like the sound of that!” The intercom ended on Mr. Krupp’s and Ms. Anthrope’s continued laughter.

Harold could feel George’s anger from fifty feet away. “Oh, _they haven’t seen the last of us…”_ He muttered under his breath.

A pile of papers was slammed down onto Harold’s desk. Harold jumped.

“Here are all the assignments you missed before you joined us, Mr. Hutchins.” Said Mr. Rected.

Harold almost screamed at how high the pile reached. “But that’s like, over half a year’s worth of assignments!” He protested.

“And you’ll hand them in finished or you’ll fail the fourth grade.”

Harold gripped at his chest, squeaking, before sliding off his chair onto the floor.

“Oh my God, you _killed_ him!” Marvin cried out.

“He’s breathing, he’s just being overdramatic!” Mr. Rected assured Marvin before making his way to the board. “Anyway, the Great Depression of the 1920’s.”

**___**

When the children were finally freed for lunch, Harold ran to the cafeteria to find George. 

Harold stormed the entrance and stopped, eyes flitting about the spacious room full of chatter and children. Until finally they fell on George. Harold raced to the table George sat at. _“George!”_ He shouted.

That got George’s attention. _“Harol!”_ He jumped out of his seat and outstretched his arms. _“Come to me!!”_

Harold lunged right into George’s arms as hard as he could, causing George to stumble backwards. Harold hugged him tight, tighter, _tighter._ George returned the pressure Harold was applying to his ribs. He heard Harold excitedly sob into his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” George asked as softly as he could muster through the tight hug. “How was class?”

“I can’t tell you all of it,” Harold said, finally letting go of George and wiping furiously at his face. “Let me show you instead.”

Harold reached into his backpack and pulled out the ridiculously tall pile of assignments, slamming them onto the lunch table and frightening nearby students. George gasped.

“These are all the papers Mr. Rected assigned before I got moved to his class…” Harold said.

George’s head spun from just looking at it. “He, expects you to do _all those_ in a month and a half?!” 

Harold didn’t say anything for a while, he only nervously inhaled and exhaled.

“Harol?”

“I’m gonna f-fail the fourth grade if I don’t do all of these,” Another tear rolled down Harold’s cheek. George sat down and patted the part of the bench infront of him for Harold to sit next. When Harold was seated infront of George, he wiped the tear off of Harold’s face with a thumb.

“I’ll be damned if you fail the fourth grade and get held back, Harold Hutchins. We’re gonna-”

_“WOAH, MAMA!”_ Melvin exclaimed, Marvin and Lewis standing behind him. “You guys weren’t lying! That’s _ALOT_ of homework!”

“We got them into this mess, Mel, it’s the least we could do if we could help Harold out with his homework!” Marvin said.

“Well, I mean,” Melvin looked at George. “I love homework and all, but we’re busy with _you-know-who_ right now and we need the time to get her done, Marv.”

George scowled at Melvin with the intensity of a reverse black hole. He jumped out of his seat, yelling and waving his arms around as if to scare away a wild animal. _“GET OUTTA HERE YOU NO-GOOD!”_

The Sneedlys scattered. Melvin jumped backwards and ran away screaming _“DON’T PUNCH ME, GEORGE!”_ Lewis hid his face behind his book from earlier, and Marvin dove behind the lunch table.

_“Sneedlys.”_ George muttered, sitting back down next to a laughing Harold.

“That reminds me!” Harold said, pulling the bag of sour gummy worms out of his backpack and setting that on the desk next. “Marvin gave these to me. Also, we have to spare him and Lewis from any more of our pranks for the rest of the year.”

“Did he bribe you?”

“Nah, I could smell them in his backpack and asked him for them. He’s so much nicer than Melvin!”

Marvin peaked up at them from the other side of the lunch table. “Thanks, Harold!” He said.

“I thought I scared you away?” George said.

“I’m Marvin.”

“Oh.”

_“Dangit,”_ Harold said. “I keep thinking you’re Lewis.”

“I’m Lewis.” Lewis said, peeking over his book.

“So, what brings you guys over to our table?” Harold asked, disregarding the gargantuan stack of homework sitting on the table.

Marvin relaxed and sat down in the seat across from George and Harold. Lewis held his book like normal and sat next to Marvin. “Well, I just thought we’d help you out with your…” Marvin gestured toward the stack of papers.

Harold and George looked at eachother with surprise before looking back at Marvin. “Really?” Harold asked.

“You, Melvin Sneedly’s brother, would help Harold?” George asked next.

“Well, yeah. I got you guys into this mess in the first place, saying sorry isn’t enough to help you guys out.”

“You said Melvin’s the one who designed the Tattle Turtle though,” Harold said. “He’s the one who should be doing my homework in that case.”

“He would! He’s the sorriest out of all of us, I think.” Marvin said.

George and Harold were unswayed.

“But, all three of us have been working on this machine for the next invention convention, we’re real proud of how she’s coming out so far.” Marvin said complacently. “I think he wants to just worry about her for right now, but I think…” Marvin climbed up and stood ontop of the lunch table. “If I were to act on preventing you, Harold, from failing the fourth grade, I could get all of these done by the end of this week!” Marvin sectioned off a part of the stack. It was less than a third of the stack, but it was alot of papers for even a week’s worth of work.

“Are you sure you could do all that, Marvin?” George asked.

“Oh, yeah! I’ve done all these assignments too so I know all the answers.” Marvin answered cooly. “Oh, in that case…” Marvin moved his fingers down a bit, to make the section of papers larger. “Hm, but…” Now he was focused on picking them up. It was too tall for little Marvin to reach the top of it, he stood on the tips of his toes to compensate, but no purchase. Marvin grunted a little. “Lewis,”

Lewis laid his book down. It was four inches tall sitting on it’s back cover.

“Thank you!” Marvin carefully removed his shoes now and stepped onto the book in his clean socks. “Lewis, do you think you could help Harold, too?”

“Sure, remove another amount the same size as that other one.” Lewis said. 

Now close to half of the stack of papers was removed.

“Wow, that’s, oh my gosh,” Harold was beaming. “I can’t believe you guys are related to Melvin.”

“How could we ever thank you guys??” George asked.

“Oh, it’s really nothing, you two.” Marvin said.

Marvin had placed the stack infront of Lewis, and now he was completely hidden out of George and Harold’s sight from it. “It’s _something.”_ Lewis said from behind his stack. Marvin started to put his shoes back on, sitting beside the stack of papers he assigned himself.

“We’ll see you guys later, then!” Marvin said before turning to Lewis while retying his shoes. “Melvin must’ve went to the room where Patsy is.”

Harold and George couldn’t see, but Lewis nodded his head. The Sneedlys wordlessly got up with their stacks of paper (and Lewis his book as well) and headed off in the direction Melvin previously ran.

“Bye, guys.” Harold waved at them.

“Wow,” George said, head rested on his hand. “So you have two nice Sneedlys in your class to help you out with your work now?” George silently thanked God for answering him.

“Yeah, I guess so. Sour gummy worm?”

“No thanks, my stomach’s still killing me from earlier.”

“Oh no, what was your class like?” Harold asked while opening the bag. He popped a gummy worm into his mouth and winced at the stinging sensation of the acidic crystals enveloping the candy.

“Bad. Melvin tried to pass the blame on us for getting separated and Ms. Ribble thought she’d make me stand up infront of the class and tell everybody that we got separated from eachother.” 

“Huh, Mr. Rected tried to do that to me too…” Harold said thoughtfully. “Melvin is seriously such a jerk!” He put two more worms in his mouth. “I wonnuh why he’so diffwun fwom Mahvin and Woowiff?”

George giggled. “Stop talkin’ with sour gummy worms in your mouth.”

“Buh,” Harold swallowed them. “I just gotta talk to you, man. Wait, what’s making your stomach hurt so bad?”

George’s face heated up. “Well, I was already pretty mad about how Mr. Krupp treated you, when Ms. Ribble called me up to the front of the class my body decided I needed to throw up.”

“Oh, George,” Harold set the bag down and hugged his friend again, much softer this time. “Their actions can’t go unpunished.” He spoke, petting his friend’s back.

“Right.” George said into Harold’s shoulder. “And we’re just the guys to punish ‘em, Marvin gave me an idea,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, there was a third Sneedly brother the whole time!! You can never have too many little Melvs.
> 
>  
> 
> (Marvin wears rectangular glasses and a large magenta sweater, Lewis wears cat-eye glasses and a green tie)


	4. Party Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Q:** _What's the party for?_
> 
>  **A:** _VENGEANCE; ATONEMENT; JUSTICE!_
> 
>   **Q:** _Where's the location?_
> 
>   **A:** _Jerome Horwitz Elementary School_
> 
>  
> 
> **please RSVP to:** _420-867-5309_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **(the author advises against actually calling that number)**

George and Harold had waited so patiently for the end of the school day, they honestly deserved their Summer break to begin right at the very moment the final bell rang that day. They talked all the way home, frequently giggling over what the look on Mr. Rected’s face could possibly be when he receives all that work Marvin and Lewis promised to have finished by the end of the week. Once in the treehouse, their plans for revenge on most of the staff at Jerome Horwitz began.

“Alright!” George pounded his fist into his palm. “Our main goal is to sabotage _all_ the inventions that are gonna be at this week’s invention convention. The night before.”

“Oooh,” Harold tapped his fingers together. “Wait a minute, this sounds a little diabolical of us.”

“I know, isn’t it exciting??”

Harold thought for a moment. “Yeah, it is!”

“Also, while we were waiting for the day to be over, I came up with another really good idea, I think you’re gonna like it.” Harold bounced with anticipation at that. He and George drew closer to eachother. “I’m gonna ask mom and pop to buy some duct tape for a school project, and then on Friday mornin’ we duct tape our arms and legs together!”

“Oh wow, I _do_ love that!” Harold said, chuckling. “Oh, oh, I got an idea too.”

“Tell me what it is!” George said excitedly.

“We should get some paints and brushes from the art room and make Ms. Ribble’s banner say ‘ _I’m old!_ ’”

The treehouse, along with the surrounding seventy-foot perimeter of the streets George and Harold could be heard on, echoed with the delighted uproarious laughter of the two little boys. They could see it now; “ **I’M OLD! - Signed Ms. Ribble** ” George clapped his hands; a brilliant idea from his best friend. It was _so humiliating_ of a statement yet so true for George’s teacher!

“That’s even better than the duct tape, I think!” George commended Harold.

“Hey, now. Don’t go comparing our ideas like this; Mr. Krupp’ll be pretty upset to learn he won’t be able to peel us apart _this time!_ We gotta do _all_ of these things!” Harold said before thinking some more. “We’ll have to break into school after it’s closed if we want to get the banner done; it’d be pretty hard to climb up a ladder duct taped together.” He said thoughtfully.

“We can do it!” George assured his partner-in-impending-crime. “Well, we don’t know how long they’ll keep that banner up for. They’re all so happy that we’re not in the same class anymore, there’s a good chance they were planning on keeping it up for the rest of the year so we can wait ‘till Friday without missing our opportunity.”

“That sounds about right. Hm, is there anything else you can come up with?”

“Nah, we got the rest of the week to brainstorm anyway. Oh, we’re gonna need a hair pin, or a paper clip. So we can get into school early. And so we can get into the art room.”

“Oh,” Harold covered his mouth, “wait a minute,”

“What’s that?”

“You said all the contraptions, but it sounds like Melvin’s working on one with Marvin and Lewis this time! And, and we can't break our promise to Marvin and Lewis, I said we'd spare them from our pranks-”

"It'll be okay, Harold!" George said. “It looks like Melvin got saved by his good-natured brothers this time.”

“You mean, we’re not gonna get Melvin back for being in cahoots with Mr. Krupp?”

“Nope. We're not. Besides, he'll get whatever's comin' to him.” George said. “Everybody gets what they deserve in our town.”

“Like Jerome Horwitz,” Harold said.

“Oh yeah, this wasn’t a _Liberation,_ ” George rubbed his tiny little child hands together. “This is the beginning of a _Great War._ ”

“ _We will have our retribution!!_ ” Harold declared, fists high in the air.

“We should probably start collectin’ our instruments of self-righteous revenge now.” George said, sounding much more calm than a few seconds ago.

“Good idea.”

“We’ll meet back here with the supplies we can get.” George said.

“Okay!” Harold nodded.

They exited the tree house in the directions respective to their homes, George climbing down the ladder and Harold hopping down the window onto the trash can and sticking the landing on the ground before continuing the journey to his house.

**___**

Harold approached the downstairs bathroom, it had most of his mother’s items in it; lotion, makeup, hair straightening and drying contraptions, her own shampoo, her own conditioner, and… just what he and George needed; bobby pins! Harold stopped himself right outside the darkened room.

“Mooom?” Harold called upstairs.

“Whaaat?” Ms. Hutchins called back.

“Can I uh, can I have a few of your bobby pins?” He asked, loud enough for mom to hear.

“Sure!” She answered.

Harold flicked on the light and stepped in.

“But you can only take three! I need the rest of those!” Ms. Hutchins added.

He retrieved three differently sized bobby pins from his mother’s drawer. “For what?” Harold quietly asked himself as he exited the bathroom. 

“None of your business!” She called down from the head of the stairs now, startling Harold. “Why do you need my bobby pins?” Mrs. Hutchins asked while scaling down the steps. She kept her eyes on him. “You gonna go picking locks, Scrunchkin?” Scrunchkin was a nickname Mrs. Hutchins coined for Harold ever since his hair started to grow out. And then his little sister was born, then there were two Scrunchkins.

“Uhhh,”

Mrs. Hutchins chuckled and ruffled her son’s fluffy hair. “Lesson learned. Don’t turn the light off I’m going in there.” She walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

“She… she either knows what George and I are gonna do, or she trusts me far too much.” Harold whispered to himself. Well, it was either that, or she planned on having a fun night out of picking locks herself. Harold started to wonder if his mom ever picked the lock on a door before, _he_ sure hadn’t. He wasn’t sure if George had picked a lock on a door before either, but, after all they had been through together, Harold assured himself he probably didn’t have to worry about that.

“What are you and your boyfriend gonna do?” Heidi asked, somehow sneaking behind Harold around the time the bathroom door had closed and Harold had turned away from it. Harold yelped, jumping away from his little sister in surprise and nearly dropping a hair pin.

“That’s none of your business, Heidi.” Harold snapped in self defense. “And, how many times do I have to tell you George isn’t my boyfriend? We’re soulmates, that’s all!” Honestly, Harold hadn’t known what a soulmate was until George brought it up. And that’s just what they were. They were both only nine years old and they could understand it; they completed eachother, and any typical person would be surprised to learn you _don’t,_ in fact, have to _like-like_ your other half for that to be true.

“You don’t have to yell at me!” Heidi whined, sniffling and bringing Harold back out of his thoughts once again. 

“Harooold!” Mrs. Hutchins yelled from the bathroom. “Don’t yell at your sister!” He was on thin ice now.

“If you don’t tell me what you and George are doing, I’m gonna scream and cry and you’re gonna get grounded.” Heidi said in a hushed tone.

“ _You little monster_ ” Harold whispered. “If I tell you, you can’t tell mom.”

“Are you gonna blow up your school?” Heidi asked.

“What? How would I do that with bobby pins?”

“I’m not as stupid as I look, Harold. George could bring the bombs.”

“We’re not gonna blow up the school, dummy.” Harold clarified. “Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“ _You didn’t tell me what you were gonna doooooo!_ ” Heidi began to raise her voice.

“ _Okay, okay,_ I’ll tell you!” Harold said, waving his hands for Heidi to shush her four-year-old pie hole. “Jerome Horwitz is bent on making sure George and me are miserable one hundred and one percent of the time, so we’re gonna get back at all the teachers.” Heidi’s eyes widened. She looked impressed.

“You could get in big trouble.”

“Somebody’s gotta teach those adults a lesson. George and me are the guys to do it.”

Heidi solemnly nodded. It wasn’t often that she kept Harold’s secrets _secret,_ but she kept this one under lock and key.

Harold started to walk away, but then he remembered Ms. Ribble making George throw up. An idea popped into his mind, and, it was a little dangerous. He sighed and thought to himself for a moment before going back to the door, knocking politely for his mom and leaning close to it. “Hey mom?”

“Yes?”

“Uhm, the next time you go to the store, do you think you could get us a box of frosted sugar doodles?”

“Goin’ on the list.” Mrs. Hutchins said from the other side of the door.

_Harold had a plan._

Ooh, Harold had _another_ plan! He ran to the kitchen and climbed up onto the counter. _There was a bottle of glue ontop of something in here..._

**___**

George watched the garage door slowly open. Once it was high enough George crept in, getting a faceful of old, warm, dusty air.

“Ugh,” George waved his hand infront of his face as if he could bat the air away. “It smells like a bunch’a bike parts.”

“George?” Mr. Beard said from the front of the garage. George perked up.

“Hi pop!” George waved. Mr. Beard pressed the button that closed the garage door. George darted closer to his dad so they could talk.

“What are you in here for, buddy?” He asked over the loud grinding noise of the mechanical door sliding back shut.

“I’m lookin’ for some supplies me and Harold need for a uh, _project_ we’re workin’ on for school!”

“Whaddaya need that might be in here?”

“Well, I’m lookin’ for a bucket of white paint. And some surface painting brushes, you know, somethin’ useful for coverin’ up things that were already painted.”

“Hm,” Mr. Beard thought for a moment, scratching under his mustache. “Don’t think we have any white paint, but I know I’ve got some good brushes in here from when I was makin’ your treehouse!” He joined George’s side and scooped him up, setting him on his shoulder. George hugged his dad’s head to keep himself steady. “You can grab 'em yourself.” Mr. Beard said as he approached the shelf above his desk, little George on his shoulder. There they were. 

George grabbed two and said, “Thanks, pop!”

“Now, when’s this thing you’re working on due?” Mr. Beard asked, setting George back down.

“Friday.” George said, innocently.

“I can get some paint for you later at the store today.”

“Oh, that reminds me,”

“Hm?”

“We also need a roll of duct tape.”

“Mm,” Mr. Beard pulled a used roll off of his desk and handed it to George.

“Thanks, pop!” George said again before heading to the door that lead to the rest of their house. As George grabbed the doorknob, his dad said:

“I’d really like to see what you two are working on when it’s finished.”

_Uh-oh._

_Oh, man…_

George gulped. “Muh, maybe!” He said, trying not to sound guilty. “It’s just a silly volcano project, Harold and I wanted to make a really big one.”

“And you want it white as paper?”

George swallowed again, turning to face his dad. “It’s not a real volcano, pop, we could make it purple with pink polka-dots if we wanted.”

“Well then why don't you do that?”

George had to think of something quick. “S-s-so we could see the fake lava better! You know, the color-”

“Ahh,” Mr. Beard gripped his chin thoughtfully. “I see. White paint it is, buddy!”

“Okay, see ya later pop!” George said, grabbing the doorknob and finally getting the door open. He sighed once he was inside and the door closed behind him. Wow, lying to his dad felt awful. No, no, he'd grieve about that later. He looked down at the paint brushes and duct tape in his hands. _What did they need next?_ George pondered for a moment, then he smiled. George ran to the kitchen and climbed up onto the counter. The Beard family liked to save unused packets of condiments whenever they had takeout, and George was in need of mustard. He thought Mr. Rected could use some.

**___**

George climbed back up the ladder and swished open the curtain door of their treehouse. Harold returned before him and was already seated in their hammock.

“Hi!” Harold said cheerily, he had a flip book and pen in his hands, and infront of his feet was a pile of differently sized bobby pins and paper clips, and next to the small pile was a bottle of glue.

“Hey! Nice lock pickers,” George said, closing the curtain back up and drawing near to Harold. “Different sizes, too!” He said, dropping his paint brushes and picking the bobby pins and paper clips up. “I think this big one will do.” George focused on the largest bobby pin Harold retrieved, unfolding it.

“Oh, you got the paint brushes!” Harold scribbled on the flip book. He must’ve written a check list on the page he was using.

“We’re gonna need smaller ones for the lettering, and pop’s gonna get some white paint at the store later, what’s the glue for?”

“Oh.” Harold grabbed the bottle with his bare foot and transferred it to his hand. “I was thinking we could glue Mr. Krupp to his seat at the invention convention.”

George giggled with glee at the thought. “This kind of glue won't work though. We're gonna need concentrated orange juice mix and rubber cement for a quick drying, body heat activated glue."

Harold gasped in amazement, listing the two items on his flip book. "Is that what we used all those other times?"

George wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, I got another thing!” George reached into his pockets and pulled out eleven packets of mustard.

“Mustard?”

George giggled even more. “Don’t you think Mr. Rected looks like he could use some mustard in his desk?”

“Ohohoho,” Harold clasped his hands together. “What if we put some on his seat too?”

“I like the way you’re thinking, Mr. Hutchins.”

“Thank you, uh, Mr. Beard?”

“Hm?”

“You know how to pick locks, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I done it tons of times.” George confirmed.

“Really?” Harold asked.

“Yeah, I picked lots of the locks to bully’s lockers before I moved out here. I can get us into Jerome Horwitz and the art room.”

“Huh, you know, you haven’t really told me much about what your life was like back then.”

“I can tell ya later if you want.” George said, setting the mustard packets and bobby pin of his choice down on the windowsill.

“Oh, _would you_?? You _gotta_ tell me about every story you can think of where you unlocked a bully's locker!”

“Of course!” George promptly sat hard on the other side of the hammock with the greatest force he could muster, his intent was to launch Harold a couple inches into the air, but instead the hammock dumped them both onto the floor of their treehouse. The two little boys, both caught by surprise, burst into laughter.

Things were looking good so far, the countdown began. They had three days of preparation left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that I may have characterized Harold's mother a little more harsh than she was portrayed in the books (in fact it seems like I might have accidentally switched Mrs. Beard's and Ms. Hutchins' personalities on complete accident; I finally read the book where Harold and George meet eachother for the first time and shows some interaction between the boys and their parents,) but, it seems the story's a little more exciting with sibling rivalry and a stressed single mom who's trying her absolute best. Don't you guys agree?
> 
> On a side note, oh, poor George and Harold. You two are so expelled right now what are you crazy kids doing how am I gonna pROTECT YOU TWO??


	5. A Blessing Of Sneedles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <:3c
> 
> (I agree, it IS cute to say)

Jerome Horwitz had generously allowed the Sneedly brothers to borrow an old copying machine for the body of their invention, and if all their labor wasn’t for naught, she’d make real life copies out of photos, drawings and paintings!

Melvin Sneedly got up from his and his brothers’ progress and wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. He sighed and looked in the direction of Marvin and Lewis, who were both sitting together on the floor in the corner of a room, jotting down the answers they remembered perfectly in Harold’s homework as fast as they could. Melvin scowled at them. “You lazies!” Melvin called to them. “I can’t believe you two would prioritize homework over _this!_ ”

“You know, Melvin,” Marvin said, stopping to pop a sour skittle into his mouth and chomping down upon its stinging goodness. “If you were to help us, I bet it would convince Harold and George to forgive you.”

“ _Look,_ ” Melvin snapped, “I finished Patsy without you two!”

“Lewis is hungry.” Lewis said. Marvin held a handful of sour skittles out to his brother. Lewis’ stomach did upset twirls at the sight of the lip-puckering morsels. “For, something that isn’t sour candy. Let’s make a giant bowl of soup with Patsy for our first test.”

“No,” Melvin said, running to his brothers and knocking Harold’s homework off of their laps. “We have to start with something that lives and breathes! Something small, nothing that would stress her out too much.” Melvin looked back over in the modified copying machine’s direction, hands lovingly clasped together. He sighed just staring at her.

“A snail!” Marvin shouted, kicking his legs and beating the heels of his shoes against the wax tiled floor.

Melvin and Lewis stared at Marvin.

“Lewis heard snails are a delicacy in France.” Lewis said.

“Snail it is,” Melvin said, unclasping his hands. “Since _I_ did most of the work today, one of you can draw the snail.”

“I’ll draw her!” Marvin said, tearing a section off of a page in his notebook and grabbing his pencil off of the ground.

“Her…?” Melvin and Lewis asked together. They watched Marvin run up to Patsy and he patted her surface comfortingly before setting the piece of paper down. Next, he doodled a snail to the best of his artistic ability. When he was finished with that, he stored the pencil away behind his ear. Marvin bounced up and down on the tips of his toes and ushered his brothers to join him. Melvin pulled Lewis up to his feet and they excitedly dashed beside Marvin.

“What are you waiting for? Test her out, _test her out!_ ” Lewis clapped his hands.

“Okay,” Marvin opened Patsy up and set the doodle of a snail face down onto the glass screen before securing her shut again. Marvin pressed the power button. Patsy buzzed for a second as she woke up, then a constant low hum could be heard.

“ _Moment of truth._ ” Melvin whispered.

“Come on, Patsy!” Marvin said before pressing the green power button. Patsy gradually hummed louder and louder.

And then the lights in the whole building died out. The Sneedly triplets were left in a pitch-black room. Marvin screamed and Lewis gasped. Patsy hummed louder. Marvin screamed more and latched onto Lewis.

“Stop screaming, stop screaming. _Stop_ screaming-” Lewis mumbled just barely above Marvin’s continuous frightened scream.

“Well, _that’s_ not supposed to happen,” Melvin thought to himself, trying to see through the darkness.

The lights came back on and flashed brighter before Patsy stopped humming and made a satisfied “Ding!”

The lightbulb the boys had attached to Patsy lit up. They stared at her with wonder.

“Did,” Marvin gulped, trying to soothe his irritated throat, “did it work?”

Lewis shoved Marvin off of him and knelt down infront of the side door they installed. He opened it and smiled. Lewis looked over at his two brothers. “You guys should see.”

Marvin and Melvin crowded their brother at Patsy’s side, looking inside to see, a live snail! It was alive! And, and it was real! _These three little geniuses had figured out how to create real things with an old copying machine!_

“ _It’s aliiiive!_ ” Melvin shouted. He always hoped there’d be an appropriate time for him to shout that one day.

“Ohhhh!” Marvin cried out, setting his index finger down infront of the snail. It slowly crawled onto Marvin’s finger. “Come to poppy, twisty widdle baby!” Marvin said in an adoring voice.

“We did it,” Lewis said in triumph, “we did it _we did it!! _” He and Melvin stood together and jumped for joy.__

____

____

“Wow,” Melvin said, hands resting on Lewis’ shoulders. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to make old Patsy in time without you guys.”

Lewis and Marvin smiled at their brother.

“JUST KIDDING!” Melvin shouted, letting go of Lewis’ shoulders. “I finished this baby tonight!” He boasted, raising a finger in the air with dignity. “Don’t forget that. _I_ finished it. You guys did Harold’s stupid homework.”

“That you did, Melv.” Marvin said. “Good job.”

“Oh, why, thank you Marv.”

Melvin was interrupted from praising himself and Marvin distracted from the innocent snail in his hand by a loud growl erupting from Lewis’ stomach.

“Lewis wants to know if Patsy could make a giant bowl of clam chowder.”

Melvin yawned. “I bet she can, and since she can, we could end world hunger with her!”

“Well, you better draw it in a to go box because we should probably start heading home soon. I’m getting tired too,” Marvin yawned next.

“Lewis doesn’t know how to draw to go boxes. Or clam chowder.”

“Clam chowder doesn’t go in to go boxes, anyway!” Melvin retorted, yawning again. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Let’s get packing!” Marvin said. “We better get home soon so I can keep Nancy nice and slimy!”

As Melvin tossed a sheet over Patsy and Lewis headed to his and Marvin’s old spot on the other side of the room, Marvin held the snail closer to his face and he took in her features. Nancy stretched her squishy grey neck out to look up at him, her tall eyes bending and twisting in all directions. “Awww,” Marvin puckered his lips and made kissy noises at her.

“Marvin if you kiss that snail I’m gonna douse you in hand sanitizer!” Melvin warned.

"I wasn't _actually_ gonna kiss her!" Marvin defended himself. "Can you hold her for me while I help Lewis pack our things?"

"Fine." Melvin said. He walked up to Marvin and held his hand out for the snail to be transferred. Marvin touched his hand to Melvin's so Nancy could slither onto uncle Melvin.

Melvin squinted at Marvin and picked Nancy up by her shell, setting her down in his palm.

"Go pack our stuff now." Melvin said.

"Be careful with her!" Marvin said on his way to join Lewis' side.

"Duh, of course I will." Melvin watched Nancy crawl about on his hand. The corners of his mouth curled upward. Snails sure were tickly.


	6. High Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that's the name of a movie? It's a parody of Alfred Hitchcock movies, and it's kinda funny.
> 
>  
> 
> However it's only something you should watch if you're super bored or procrastinating writing a fanfiction.

“Alright, class.” Mr. Rected droned as he seated himself infront of his desk, he looked over the sea of students before reaching into his desk for a teacher’s copy of an old American history book he had stashed inside. “Today we’re going to learn about--” He shut up, eyes bugging wide. Mr. Rected yanked his hand out of the compartment in his desk to reveal it was now coated in a gooey brownish mustard. “AACK!” He shouted. Mr. Rected scowled with contempt at the group of laughing fourth graders seated infront of him until they landed on Harold, who was watching him with a pleased smile. _That’s the look of a child responsible for this mess._ The teacher’s bushy brows furrowed more and he got out of his chair. “As soon as I’m done washing my hand, _someone’s_ going to the principal’s office for this!”

Harold’s peers only laughed more when Mr. Rected turned to walk out the door. Mr. Rected will _surely_ be embarrassed to see he sat in some too! _Putting mustard in his seat was a great idea!_ Harold giggled to himself. The roar of laughter in the classroom died down into noisy chatter like in the cafeteria. Lewis Sneedly jumped out of his desk and ran to where Mr. Rected had currently been situated and looked inside the compartment, it was coated in a drying brownish mustard. Lewis frowned with sympathy at Mr. Rected’s poor history book. It wasn’t spared from a gooey demise. “Someone filled his desk with _alot_ of mustard,” Lewis confirmed.

“ _You_ did that, didn’t you?” Marvin asked Harold, standing excitedly in his seat.

“Well, it was mostly George’s idea, but yeah. I had to put the mustard there.” Harold explained complacently. “Man, I wish George was here to see that.”

“I saw everything!” George’s voice called from the doorway, he seemed to have appeared there out of nowhere.

“George!” Harold’s eyes brightened at the sight of George’s face.

“Hurry, come over here before Mr. Rected comes back!” George waved for Harold to join him outside of room 18.

“And _skip class?_ ” Harold asked.

“If you stay here, you’ll get sent to Principal Krupp’s office!” Marvin said.

“I knew you’d get in trouble for the mustard in Mr. Rected’s desk, so let’s get in trouble together. Like usual.” George said.

“Go, Harold!” Lizzi Yates shouted from the back of the classroom.

“You deserve to be happy, go be with him!” Lewis said.

“Hurry before the teacher comes back!” Another student, Todd Straub, called out.

Everyone cheered for Harold and encouraged him to join his friend. He got out of his seat and rushed to George. “Bye guys,” Harold said, “I’ll see you all later I guess.”

George and Harold softly crept through the hallways, ducking under class windows and flashing past open doors until they made it into the locker bay. Harold noticed that Ms. Ribble’s banner already read “ **I’M OLD!** ” That was really strange, he didn’t remember breaking into school early to paint it yet! Then again, he couldn’t remember what day it was, either! But it must have been Friday!

“George, when did we do that?” Harold asked, pointing up at the banner.

“Last night after my dad bought the white paint, remember?” George said.

“Oh, right.” Harold remembered now.

They were almost to the front of the school, they just needed to creep through one more hall of classrooms, and they were in the clear! Room 8… room 7… room 6… room 5… room 4… As they approached room 3, the door swung open and _Wedgie Woman_ jumped out! George and Harold gasped.

“Trying to slither out of school, boys?” Wedgie Woman cackled.

“Oh, _no_.” Harold said.

“Wha-?” George sputtered. “Why is Ms. Ribble dressed like _Wedgie Woman?!_ ”

They shoved her, she was just a little old lady dressed like a super villain after all, back into her classroom and shut the door. The two boys leaned against it with all their might. Wedgie Woman rattled the doorknob and rammed all her weight into the door over and over for as long as she could muster. After ten minutes of struggling, she gave up.

“You can delay me, _but you can’t stop me!!_ ” Wedgie Woman screamed from the other side of the door.

“ _Why did Ms. Ribble become Wedgie Woman???_ ” George asked incredulously.

“Um,” Harold kicked a foot against the ground nervously. It clicked in George’s mind now, but he still couldn’t believe it.

“ _Harold,_ we destroyed the hypno ring _months_ ago! Ms. Ribble can’t be Wedgie Woman because of us,”

Harold sighed. He took the hypno ring out of his pocket. “George,”

“ _No,_ you _didn’t,_ ”

“I, I told her to be a nice teacher and not turn into Wedgie Woman!”

“That’s not how it works, Harold! When you hypnotize someone they do what you say!” George shouted. “Why would you do that???”

“I’m telling the truth! I remembered Ms. Ribble making you throw up and I just wanted your class to be more bearable for you,” Harold explained.

George’s angry expression melted. “Aww,” George cooed, hand over his chest. Then he remembered there was a lady who was hypnotized into believing she was Wedgie Woman in room 3. “ _That doesn’t change what happened!_ ” George took the hypno ring out of Harold’s hands, motioning to it with his free hand. “This thing, does NOT help us at all. All it does is make our lives harder! Do you understand?”

Harold nodded vigorously and swallowed. “I’m, I’m really sorry George.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Harold, alright? She’s just a weak old lady. All we gotta do is catch her and hypnotize her into being nice by telling her NOT to be nice.”

“And to continue to be Wedgie Woman.”

“Oh, yeah, opposites, that too.”

Marvin and Lewis approached Harold and George from seemingly nowhere, especially since class wasn’t out and their footsteps couldn’t have been heard until Harold saw them, and aggressively tossed the homework assignments they had taken at Harold. They weightily fluttered to the ground at George’s and Harold’s feet. Harold saw that they were all answerless.

“Here you go, backstabbers!” Marvin cried out.

“Huh?? What did we do?” George asked.

“Everyone thinks _we_ sabotaged the other kid’s machines at the invention convention because you guys spared us from your pranks for the rest of the year!” Lewis explained.

“Some deal! I can’t believe I trusted you, Harold!” Marvin shouted. 

“What? No! We didn’t think--” Harold couldn’t finish his sentence.

“Have fun trying to pass the fourth grade, _Hutchins._ ” Lewis scoffed as he and his magenta sweater clad brother walked away with their noses in the air.

Harold simply stood now. He looked at the mass of answerless papers at his feet, he thought about Ms. Ribble thinking she was Wedgie Woman, and he thought about the trouble he and George were going to get in later today for skipping class. Harold started to shiver uncontrollably. He started hyperventilating. “ _George what are we going to do??_ ” He asked. “My mom’s going to _kill_ me if I fail the fourth grade!”

“What do you mean ‘ _we?_ ’” George asked, kicking a few papers away from himself. “I’ve had enough of these blunders of yours, _Harold Hutchins_ , you’re on your own!” With that, George turned. And he walked away.

“George, wait, _don’t leave me_ \- George, George don’t go! I’m so sorry I keep messing up I’ll try to be better, please I can improve myself!” Harold followed George until he realized nothing he said would get him to stop walking away. Harold fell to his knees in his sea of homework, watching his closest friend leave him. “No, George, _George!_ ”

Harold startled himself awake. He heard himself saying George’s name in his sleep. Sleep? That was all a dream?! Harold looked through the darkness to the tall drawers near his bed, there, a walky talky sat. Harold let out a shaky sigh, he needed to talk to George right now. He didn’t care if George was asleep, they _needed_ to talk. Harold reached over for the walky, but his hand didn’t make it all the way. He stretched his arm out and knocked the walky off of the drawer with his hand. Harold sighed again, this time out of frustration. He got out of bed now and picked the dang thing up. He held down on the talk button and spoke timidly into it. “George?” He whispered into it at first. “George are you awake?” Harold’s voice got a little louder. “George, we need to talk please wake up.”

George was snatched away from his dreams when he heard Harold’s voice in his room. 

“George, please wake up I need to talk to you!”

“Hmm?” He growled, stretching and yawning. George thought they were in their treehouse, but then he recognized the feeling of laying in his bed. 

“Geooorge? Please, please, please I _need_ to talk to you right now!”

George swiftly sat up in his bed and snatched his walky talky up off of the floor beside his own bed. “Huh? What? I’m awake.” He rasped tiredly into the walky.

Harold was relieved to hear George’s voice, but something else was still bothering him. “I think we should not do any of the pranks we came up with earlier today.”

“...” George inhaled through his nose, unsure if he correctly heard what he just did. “What?”

“We shouldn’t do any of the pranks we came up with at all, call it quits? Give up? Before something else awful happens as a result?”

George blinked his eyes rapidly to stop them from stinging. He pressed the talk button on his walky. “Climb out your window and meet me in the treehouse right now.”

Harold’s stomach twisted like a slinky being handled by a merciless child. “Alright,” he said into the walky. Though George probably wasn’t upset with Harold for getting cold feet, this nightmare had given him a horrible sinking feeling that he was on thin ice with George now. Harold set the walky down onto his bed and slipped down onto the floor, accompanied by the ruffle of his pajamas against his blanket and bed sheet.

**___**

While George made the journey through his yard, he stepped on something. “Ouch!” He cried out, retracting his foot. George paused, bending over and feeling for whatever his foot had just bared down upon. When his fingers touched it, he recognized what it was immediately. George grabbed it and looked at it in embarrassment; it was the duct tape his father handed him! He must have absentmindedly dropped it on his way to the treehouse yesterday! How embarrassing… George noticed Harold’s silhouette climbing up onto the trash can behind his side of the fence and sped to the ladder, duct tape in hand now. When George got to the top, Harold flicked two lamps on, a normal one his mother had donated for decoration and their lava lamp. Harold kept his eyes on the floor and joined his hands together in embarrassment. “What’s gotten into you?” George finally questioned.

Harold gulped. “This is gonna sound really juvenile of me but,”

“We’re roughly nine.” George reminded him in an attempt to make him feel less humiliated about whatever was on his mind.

“I had, a really… I had a nightmare about everything just now and I needed to see you,”

George placed his hands on his hips, giving Harold a comforting smile. “Aw, Harol, nothing bad’s gonna happen, we’ve got everything planned out! In fact, why don’t you tell me what happened so it won’t come true?” George ran over to the hammock and flopped down into it. “Come lay down with George!”

Harold’s shoulders drooped and he shuffled to their hammock, flopping down half next to George and half ontop of him.

“Well, first of all, in my dream you… I just crossed the line and you left me.”

“What??” George’s voice raised. “Harold, no matter what happens or whatever you do, I would _never_ leave you!” George assured his fluffy headed friend, petting one of his shoulders. 

“That’s really relieving to hear,” Harold said, relaxing into George now and easing a little into the shoulder pets.

“Part one: debunked. Keep going.”

“Okay, well, that was at the end of my dream. The other things that happened were… the Sneedly brothers got blamed for our sabotaging of the inventions for the invention convention, so Lewis and Marvin were really upset and gave me all of my homework back.”

“Huh,” George said.

“Huh what??” Harold asked, sounding anxious again.

“That actually sounds possible, but do you wanna hear why none of that will happen, Harol?”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve been responsible for every single prank that’s ever happened at Jerome Horwitz ever since I moved here. _Everyone_ will know it was us.” George said. Harold let out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

“Plus, the Sneedlys have _alot_ of brownie points with the teachers, they’d never suspect a betrayal from those nerds even if they _were_ responsible!”

“Okay.” Harold’s eyes could close now. “Also, Ms. Ribble got hypnotized into believing she was Wedgie Woman and tried to attack us and we had to hypnotize her into being a nice teacher.”

George started to laugh. “That _really_ can’t happen! We destroyed the hypno ring months ago! That’s as likely to happen as Melvin taking the blame for something he didn’t do!”

Harold chuckled too. “Yeah, you’re right. Th-thanks for talking to me, George. I actually feel alot better now.”

“Unless you got another one.”

Harold’s eyes snapped back open.

“You didn’t get another one, did you Harold?”

Harold stayed silent.

“ _Harold?_ ”

Harold groaned. “I can’t lie to you George,”

“Oh, _no_ ”

“I-I asked my mom to buy a box of frosted sugar doodles yesterday because I remembered how Ms. Ribble treated you. I didn’t want to turn her into Wedgie Woman, I wanted to hypnotize her into being a nice teacher so your class would be better…” Harold explained. 

“Aww,” George cooed. “That’s so sweet of you, Harold!”

“You think so?”

“Yeah! We both know the hypno ring is dangerous, but if we just hypnotize Ms. Ribble into bein’ nice and happy all the time then that’d be way different than turning her into someone like Captain Underpants!”

“But, George, she did the opposite of what I told her to do in my dream!”

“Harold, Mr. Krupp did whatever we told him to when we hypnotized him with that thing.” George said. “Plus, it was just a dream, you’re all stressed out about the future, buddy. Just focus on the here and now, we’re here. I still wanna be your friend. Just relax, everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Harold inhaled deep and exhaled. “Okay.” He whispered.

“Let’s stay right here for the rest of the night.” George said, patting Harold’s shoulder.

“Alright.” Harold said. 

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you so much for this."

George giggled softly and wrapped an arm around Harold. "You're welcome, Harol."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, these chapters are kinda short, but I struggle enough as it is finishing things in general so.... I'm just uploading the stuff I get before I run dry if that becomes the fate of this fanfic as well. Also, I'M having fun atleast.


	7. A Series Of Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow i really thought i wasnt gonna come up with a name for this chapter but there it is

**12:00 AM**

George and Harold found it difficult to fall back asleep this time, mostly because each time they fell silent, Harold or George would think of something else to keep the conversation going. At this point, Harold had left the hammock to turn off the two lamps before laying back across George’s stomach. They were shrouded in darkness now, hopefully they’d be encouraged to fall asleep by the change in atmosphere. Harold folded his hands together. “Hey, George?”

“Yeah, Harold?” George asked, eyes peacefully shut.

“You know… Ever since my dad left I,” George’s eyes opened. “I would sometimes wish I had a brother.” One of George’s hands found their way to Harold’s face, he covered one side of Harold’s face with his palm. He lightly patted the soft cheek.

“Looks like God answered our prayer, huh? I used to wish I had a twin brother, and then, we just got drawn to eachother.”

Harold softly chuckled, touching George’s hand. “Yeah.”

**3:00 AM**

“I heard if you shine a flashlight into the sky for too long a bunch’a aliens will come down and abduct you.” George said after ten minutes of silence.

“Why would you say that??” Harold asked, sounding a little frightened.

**3:02 AM**

Harold and George were poking their heads out the window, powered on flashlights in hand, waving the light yellow beams that -unknown to them- were too weak to be seen from thousands of feet in the air.

“Hey, aliens!” George whisper-shouted (because their parents were asleep) “Come on down here and abolish the American school system!”

“We can live without it!!” Harold added, waving his flashlight vigorously.

Eventually they gave up, Harold turned his flashlight off and George hung disappointedly over the windowsill, arms dangling and flashlight shining a warm yellow on the grass below them. “I _want_ to believe…” He said.

**4:28 AM**

“Do you think we should put Marvin and Lewis in our next comic?” Harold asked. The two boys were laying in the hammock again, this time George was snuggled ontop of Harold, having pulled a baby blue knitted blanket over the both of them.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” George yawned. “What time do you think it is right now?”

“I dunno, eleven?”

“It was eleven when we got here.”

“Uh oh,”

“Let’s try to go to sleep.”

**5:57 AM**

The sun’s peach-gold rays were leaking in through nearly every window of the treehouse, giving the only room it had that warm glow Harold and George adored. “Yeah well,” George rasped, he and Harold had moved to the floor at this point. They were still sharing the same baby blue blanket. “Did you know we’re living much more privileged lifestyles than royalty in the 1400s?” 

“Really?” Harold asked, voice sounding groggy as George’s.

“Well, yeah. I mean, instead of toilets- you’d have a servant.”

“What do you mean? Like they used a human person in place of a toilet?”

“Yeah! They had special servants just for pooping on!”

“You’re _lying_ to me.” Harold said through an amused grin.

“No I’m not! That’s where we got the term _butler_ from!”

“Oh, _you!!_ ” Harold laughed with George. “ _Bad joke!! Boooooo!_ ”

“We stayed up all night on a school night what the heck are we gonna do” George asked.

“I dunno, my mom’s probably gonna be really upset that I left the house all night and she might lecture me on kidnappings.”

“We almost got willingly kidnapped by aliens.” George added.

“We did it with our fellow students in mind.” Harold said.

**___**

Harold’s mother got up every weekday at 5 in the morning for her job, and at roughly 5:40-5:50, she would check on her son before having to wake him up at 6:00. Poor, _poor_ Ms. Hutchins when she opened her son’s bedroom door to a heavy chill assaulting her senses and the sight of an empty bed and an open window. Harold rarely pulled anything screwy on his own mother because he knew better than that, so poor, _frightened_ Ms. Hutchins screamed so loud she nearly woke Heidi. 

Harold and George heard her from their treehouse. Harold sucked in a deep breath of air, sitting up from his position in George’s arms and wrapped in the knitted blanket. “Welp, George,” Harold said. “I think today’s the day my mom actually kills me. It was an honor being your friend.”

“Wait! Didn’t you like, leave a note on your bed for her or something?”

“She’d be angry either way! Wha, do _you_ leave notes on your bed for your parents?”

“Well, sometimes if I forget to tell my parents something I leave a note for them and they don’t get upset.”

“Can we trade parents?” Harold asked before the sound of an adult’s foot stomping on a lawn chair assaulted their ears. “Oh, no…” Then the sound of an adult climbing onto a trash can assaulted their ears next. 

“Harol, I am _so_ sorry,” George said, touching Harold’s arm.

“I’ll be okay.” Harold assured George, voice grim.

“ _HAROLD HUTCHINS, ARE YOU IN THERE?!_ ” Harold’s mother squawked.

“Y-yes!” Harold called back, afraid to look at the window he regularly exited the treehouse through, _he didn’t want to see whatever expression his mom was wearing._

“Oh!” She cried out in relief, finally peeking her curly-haired head in through the window. Her face quickly went from relieved to enraged. “You are in so much trouble! Do you know what I thought when I saw your window open and your bedroom completely _empty??_ ”

“I’m sorry mom,” Harold said guiltily, getting up from where he was sitting and making sure he hadn’t disturbed the blanket off of George’s person in any way.

“ _Get your little butt over here._ ” Harold did as he was told, once he was close enough to the window his mother picked him up. She turned away from the window, sitting on the trash can momentarily with Harold in her arms before sliding off and heading back home. George could hear more of their conversation as they got farther from the treehouse. “Honey, your eyes are a little bloodshot.”

“Uh, they got dry.” Harold offered.

“You stayed up all night with George, _didn’t_ you?”

“Uh-oh,” George thought outloud to himself. “I could get in trouble for that.” This was George’s fault, after all. George sat up now, eyes feeling dry as well, “I said let’s stay in the treehouse all night,” but otherwise, he was still pretty awake. George shed the baby blue blanket, then got up and grabbed the large bobby pin and mustard packets. It seemed that he was going to need more mustard packets if he wanted to successfully prank Mr. Rected with the condiment, and it would be smart to sneak into the art room for black paint and finer paint brushes as soon as possible.

**___**

Ms. Hutchins set little Harold down onto his feet when they arrived at the sliding glass door. She grasped the handle and slid it open, holding Harold’s hand in the other. “I didn’t raise you to stay up all night when you have school the next day, Harold Hutchins.” Ms. Hutchins scolded her child. As she entered their house, she tugged a little on Harold's arm to get him to walk in with her.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Harold’s voice was laced with a yawn.

Ms. Hutchins knelt infront of her son, cupping his little face with her hands so she could see his eyes. “Not only do you have to set a good example for your baby sister like I do, but you need to be able to take care of yourself.” She soothingly rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs. “Do you think you can bathe yourself without falling asleep?”

“Yes.” Harold said with determination.

“Then get on in there, boy.” Ms. Hutchins said before letting go of her son and standing up. Harold went off in the direction of the stairs, tripping a little over a step and continuing on his journey for the upstairs bathroom. Ms. Hutchins did her best to teach her children to be tough, but she knew when a kid needed rest. She went in the direction Harold did; whether he fell asleep in the shower or not, he was staying home anyway. She waited a few minutes outside the bathroom door after the startup of the shower to give her son time to get behind the curtain before she quietly turned the knob and walked in. Ms. Hutchins sat herself down on the closed toilet.

The warm water softly beating against Harold’s skin was one of the most soothing sensations in the world, he leaned against one of the walls of the shower, pressing his face into the cool surface. He always thought it’d be nice to sleep in warm water, the only thing keeping him from doing so was the fact that he didn’t have any gills. However, now felt like it would be worth it. Harold closed his eyes, lulled away by the nonrhythmic beats of the steady stream. 

As soon as Ms. Hutchins heard her son begin to snore, she opened the curtain to find him _still in his pajamas_ and with his cheek smooshed into the wall to keep him standing. “Oh, Harold!” She said, snapping Harold awake.

Harold yelped in surprise, trying to cover himself with his hands before realizing he had left his pajamas on. “What are you _doing_ in here?” Harold asked his mom.

“It’s dangerous to sleep in a running shower.” She said. “Give me your pajamas Scrunchy. I’ll wash your hair and we’ll call it good.”

Harold unbuttoned his soaked pajama shirt and peeled it off of his body before handing it to his mom, then he slipped his pants and underwear off and handed them to her as well. Ms. Hutchins flopped them into the sink to deal with later. 

“So, you know you’re not going to school today, right?” Ms. Hutchins asked as she grabbed the shampoo bottle and squeezed some of the contents into her hand. She spread it over both of her palms and lathered the shampoo into her son’s hair.

“I’m not??” Harold was far too drained to sound properly shocked. “But what about George?”

“I’m gonna tell his parents about this and we’re all going to have a talk about what we can do to help you two get used to being separated from eachother at school without harming yourselves.”

“All that happened was I had a nightmare with him in it and we needed to talk!”

“Honey,” Ms. Hutchins sighed, making Harold’s hair stand up with the thick sudsy solution. “You’re supposed to come to _me_ when you have a nightmare, not your friend who needs to sleep. And you two have walky talkies for a reason.” While she was trying to be serious, she giggled at the sight of Harold’s wet hair standing up in the shape of a giant spike. “It’s been so long since I could wash you and make your hair look all silly.”

“ _Mom,_ ” Harold pulled the curtain and rinsed his hair himself. 

“I still have to condition you!” Ms. Hutchins reminded her child.

“I can do it myself!” Harold said from behind the shower curtain.

“You sure you’re not gonna fall asleep, sleepy head?”

“Yes I’m sure.”

**___**

“Is that you, George?” Mrs. Beard called out at the sound of the glass door sliding open.

“Yeah, mom!” George called back, yawning.

“Harold’s mom called and told me that he’s staying home today, she thought you’d like to know.”

“She _killed_ him!” George shouted, grabbing at his face in disbelief.

“ _No, no!_ She said Harold fell asleep in the shower so she’s keeping him home. What did you two do last night?”

George slid the glass door shut and crossed the kitchen into the living room to meet his mother. She was seated on the couch, a mug of coffee infront of her on the coffee table. “Harold had a nightmare about school and he woke me up with our walky talkies, I suggested we talked to eachother in person at the treehouse and then I also said we should stay there the rest of the night.” George explained.

“And you didn’t fall asleep?” Mrs. Beard asked, lifting up her mug of coffee and taking a sip. “Didn’t we agree you two could only spend the night in your treehouse on a school night if it was Sunday?”

“Yeah,” George nervously rubbed his hands together.

“I know you were just trying to help your friend, but if something like this happens again, your father and I will have to decide on a punishment for you.”

“Okay, mom.” George said.

“Do you wanna stay home too, Georgie?”

“No, I gotta make some more progress on our project.” George said before going back into the kitchen to get himself a bowl of cereal. Harold's absence would definitely take any positive aspect of being at school away for the day, but there were errands to be taken care of in time.

“You are just so smart and responsible, boy. I’m proud of you, baby.” Mrs. Beard said.

“I know!” George called back.

"Hey! We're not getting prideful here, you thank somebody when they compliment you!"

"Thanks, mom." George rolled his eyes, she couldn't see.

"And if you need me to get you during the day, you go to the nurse and have her call me!"

"Okay, mom."

**___**

The moment George took his usual seat in classroom 3, he laid his face down on the desk and closed his eyes. Everything dreamlessly sped by him until somebody obnoxiously knocked on his desk. George whipped up, startled and frustrated, to see Melvin standing infront of his desk. George was only more upset at the sight of the Sneedly brother. “What do you want?” George snapped.

Melvin gulped, obviously intimidated by George at this point. “I-I was waking you up so you wouldn’t get in trouble for sleeping in class!” He explained, unable to control the volume of his voice.

“Oh.” George said, still looking unhappy to see Melvin. “Thanks I guess. But I don’t care if I get in trouble, I’m exhausted Melvin. So leave me alone.”

Melvin sighed, frustrated as well. He sat back at his desk. His brothers were probably still nagging him to try and make up with George and Harold. While Lewis and Marvin were easily on much better terms with the two best friends, Melvin was still struggling. At this point, Melvin was ready to give up on George completely. If there was one thing Melvin Sneedly hated as much as getting a grade lower than a solid A, it was people acting negatively toward him. If George didn’t want anything to do with him, then so be it.


	8. In Sneed of Some Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who wrote this cheesy chapter title???

The sound of somebody tapping their fingers on the surface where George’s sleepy head was rested snapped him back out of his half-asleep trance. George’s head whipped up from the lunch table, peas and a piece of pepperoni stuck to his face, to his displeasure he passed out in his own lunch! George groaned and peeled the pepperoni off of his cheek, putting it back in it’s rightful dent on the overly greasy slice of stiff pizza that he wasn’t actually interested in eating, and brushing the peas off of his face. Now that that was done with, he focused on whoever was standing across from him.

It was Marvin Sneedly and his two brothers, he and Lewis were holding their own thick mass of papers and Melvin stood behind them looking anywhere but at George. “Hiya, George!” Marvin waved, setting what he had finished of Harold’s homework infront of George on the lunch table. “Harold’s gone today so, do you think you could take these to him after school for Lewis and I? We think he’ll be happy to see them!” Lewis set his papers down ontop of Marvin’s, George slid his lunch tray away from himself and slid the papers in the tray’s old place.

“Mmm,” George nodded.

“Is Harold okay?” Lewis asked.

“Harol’s fine, his mom let him stay home. I could have stayed home too but… There was something I needed to do,” George groggily tried to recall what was so important that he needed to prioritize going to school over catching up on missed rest.

“Welp!” Melvin piped up, a little louder than necessary, “I refuse to wait any longer, I’ll be in the lunch line.”

“ _Melvin,_ ” Marvin protested as Melvin walked past him and Lewis. Marvin knew Melvin was trying to avoid George.

“You’ll have to follow me!” Melvin called back when he was already ten feet away and heading for the line of children waiting to be served their food. George watched him leave, feeling relieved Melvin wouldn’t be there to hear whatever was said in the rest of their conversation.

“Harold has to write his name on all the papers so it’s more convincing.” Lewis spoke again while Marvin continued to frown disapprovingly in Melvin’s direction.

“That’s cool, thanks.” George said, his tired brain finally thinking to put Harold’s homework in his bag. He let out a yawn as he zipped his bag back shut. “Actually, I just remembered I gotta do something important and I was wondering if you guys would like to be on lookout for me since Harold’s gone. Um,” Lewis was listening, but Marvin was still turned in Melvin’s direction and he didn’t appear to be mentally present.

“Look, look, look!” Lewis punched Marvin in the back to get his attention.

“ _Ouch!_ Lewis!” Marvin whined, rubbing his back and turning to face Lewis.

“You and Harold are up to something,” Lewis said, now that his brother was paying attention. “Aren’t you?”

“You two seem nicer than Melvin,” George said, pointing at the Sneedly brothers standing before him. “Can I trust you two not to tell him? ‘Cuz I know what that little snitch’ll do once he finds out.”

Whether the two ginger haired brothers wanted to address it or not, they were fully aware of their third brother’s untrustworthy habits. Melvin would tattle any little accident or act of disobedience to their own parents for brownie points ever since birth it seemed. As you can see, reader, that resulted in a selfless and careful sibling (Marvin _hated_ making others upset) and a quiet, indifferent sibling (Lewis hated getting in trouble, so he eventually developed his own ways of avoiding or coping with it.) Ever since the Sneedly brothers began attending school, Melvin softened on his brothers and got caught up in other people’s business. Well, there was another thing that factored into Melvin not being such a tattletale on his own brothers any longer, but that wasn’t important to touch on at the moment. George was unaware of all this, of course, but he did seem to be aware that Marvin and Lewis loved their brother anyway. Or atleast it came off as brotherly love. There was a chance, George had noted off in the back of his mind, that Melvin was holding them emotionally hostage and something needed to be done.

“You can trust us.” Marvin assured George. Lewis stiffened in place.

“Alright,” George said before hushing his voice and motioning the two nearly identical nerds to get closer to him. “Harold and I are gonna paint over Ms. Ribble’s banner in the locker hall, but I gotta break into the art room and get black paint and paint brushes so we have everything we need.”

Marvin’s stomach fluttered with excitement at that, the possibility of being involved with one of the infamous George Beard and Harold Hutchins’ pranks would be one of the riskiest things he and his brother Lewis would have ever done so far! He looked over to a disturbed Lewis and lightly shook his shoulder. “We can help you with that, George!” Marvin said. Lewis shook his head. “You can- Lewis, what’s wrong?” Marvin finally noticed how tense his brother was.

“Up to something, up to something, up to something…” Lewis repeated uneasily.

“Are you okay, Lewis?” George asked.

“Uh-oh,” Marvin rested both of his hands on Lewis’ shoulders. “Look, George and I can do this. This task really only needs two people anyway, why don’t you get lunch with Melv while George and I take care of this?”

“You’ll get caught, you’ll get caught, you’ll get caught!”

“No we won’t,” Marvin assured Lewis, rubbing his shoulders and looking calmly into his eyes. “The hallways are empty right now, you know that.” Without nodding or saying anything more, Lewis broke off from Marvin to join Melvin in line.

“You ready to boogie then, Marvin?” George asked. “We should go quick before anyone spots us.”

“Up to something,” Lewis repeated again, eyes on the floor, trekking up beside Melvin, “ _up to something, up to something,_ ”

Melvin learned long ago that Lewis enjoyed repeating phrases, and he _also_ knew that Lewis would do it more when he was distressed. He eyed Lewis suspiciously and looked back to the lunch table where Marvin and George were. The sweater clad nerd and the tie bearing rebel visibly chatted before leaving the table and subsequently the cafeteria.

“ _What_ are they up to, Lewis?” Melvin asked pointedly.

Lewis looked over at Melvin with wide eyes. “Who? Was Lewis talking out loud?”

Melvin grabbed Lewis by the collar of his shirt, abrasively squishing their noses together. “Don’t play dumb, Lewis,” Their glasses clunked and Melvin pulled back so there was a more comfortable space between their freckled, rosy-cheeked faces. “What are Marvin and _George_ doing?”

Lewis stubbornly shook his head, not one bit intimidated by his younger brother. (Fun fact, Melvin’s the youngest Sneedly triplet by however minutes, Lewis is the oldest Sneedly triplet by whatever minutes.) “Can’t tell, can’t tell, can’t tell.” Now he was just repeating himself to be annoying!

“Well, why don’t we follow them and find out, then?” Melvin suggested, shifting his steady grip from the collar of Lewis’ shirt to his green necktie and dragging him along. George and Marvin were far ahead of them, but Melvin could catch up easily with Lewis quite literally in tow.

“But, Melvin,” Lewis sputtered. “It’s beef flavored soy byproduct taco Tuesday!”

Melvin stopped in his tracks to give his brother a funny look. “The food here’s bad anyway, you literally just named off why it’s horrible, our school doesn’t even use real meat!”

“Lewis is hungry!” Lewis argued, trying to yank his tie out of Melvin’s obstinate fist.

Melvin’s expression softened. He tugged Lewis along again, speeding the both of them up to fast-paced walk in order to catch up with George and Marvin. “Okay, how about this, we’ll make something to eat with Patsy after we get George in trouble for whatever’s going on and get Marvin back.”

“We can’t get George in trouble anymore,” Lewis said as they exited the cafeteria.

Melvin scoffed. “And _why not?_ ”

“George is our friend.”

Melvin’s stomach convulsed at that declaration, he couldn’t tell if it was over the fact that no matter how hard he tried George would never want to be his friend or if it was because he felt very strong feelings of hatred and resentment toward George for the time being.

“He’s _your_ friend.” Melvin corrected. “Not mine, he’s not my problem. Not my burden to bare.”

“Then don’t act like it’s your job to turn him in to the nearest adult.” Lewis countered.

“Okay FINE I won’t get him in trouble you big soft baby!” Melvin caved in. “I just want to see what Marvin and George are up to.”

They were in the main hallway now, the two Sneedly brother’s eyes instantaneously zeroed in on George knelt infront of the abandoned art class and jiggling his dominant arm like he was trying to pick the padlock to the room. Marvin was standing beside him, on the lookout for teachers or other students like he promised. Melvin bleated in horror and let Lewis’ tie drop back in place, he dashed over to his brother and _George, that delinquent!_ Lewis chased after his hysterical brother.

“Uh-oh,” Marvin watched in horror as Melvin gained on them. He tapped George’s shoulder.

“Don’t get cold feet now, I almost got it, Marvin!” George assured Marvin through a yawn.

“No no!” Marvin tapped George’s shoulder again. “ _Mel--Mel--!_ ” Marvin breathed as if he were in a nightmare, tapping George more insistently.

“Ow-ow- _ow!!_ ” George complained, standing back up and glaring at Marvin. “ _Gee whiz!_ What’s wrong?”

“ _George!_ ” Marvin whined. Oh. Someone was here and Marvin was too anxious to do his job properly. George turned to look in the direction Marvin was.

“MARVIN WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?!” Melvin shrieked incredulously. Lewis, George and Marvin all shushed him. “ _What are you doing?_ ” Melvin hissed. “ _This is NOT cool! You can’t just be the accomplice of some bonehead who’s trying to break into a classroom that’s off limits, Marvin!_ ”

“Hey, Melvin.” George said, getting inbetween Melvin and his brother with his chest puffed out, “I don’t remember inviting you over here, so why don’t you kindly zip your lip and then make like a tree and split?”

“ _What do we do??_ ” Marvin whispered to Lewis.

“They need to talk this out.” Lewis whispered back. “Lewis wants to see where this will go.”

“First of all, _buster,_ ” Melvin prodded George’s chest, “it’s make like a tree and _leaf,_ ” he prodded George’s chest some more, “and second of all what gives you the big idea that you can just take my good brother and make him do stupid things for you while you continue to dig yourself deeper and deeper into your own academic grave?!”

“I’m not gonna give you an answer, you goblin.” George retaliated.

“GOBLIN!” Melvin shrieked again, tossing his hands up into the air. Lewis and Marvin were now both at either side of their baby brother, shushing him and trying to soothe him. It would have been a heartwarming sight if George felt that Melvin was deserving of such support from his own brothers.

“George!” Lewis scolded. “Be nicer to Melvin! He promised he wasn’t going to tell on you, he just wanted to know what you two were up to!” He explained.

“Ohh,” George trusted that statement.

“Awww,” Marvin cooed, “you wanted to make sure I was okay!”

“Don’t patronize me.” Melvin mumbled at Marvin. “I’d like an apology now, George.” Melvin’s arms were crossed and he was scowling at George. It was always goofy when Melvin scowled, he had these big round glasses and a baby face.

“You called me bonehead first,” George said.

“UGH! You’re so _difficult!_ ” Melvin complained, glancing between both of his brothers who were on either side of him. “ _See?_ This is why I can’t be his friend he just doesn’t know how to _interact_ with people!"

“What a lousy attempt _you_ made, Melvin, I couldn't even tell you wanted to be my friend.” George said, looking incredibly displeased. “Anyway, I’ve got a time limit, I need--”

“I _thought_ I heard shrieks over here,” said the voice of Mr. Krupp as he closed in on the four little boys, shoes tapping imperiously against the wax tiled floor with each step. “Melvin, Marvin, Lewis, is George giving you three a hard time?” He inquired, voice coated with scorn and hands impatiently placed on his hips. Being the school suckups had its perks, and _one of them_ was having the school’s principal have your back like you had his.

They were surprised to see their principal, but the Sneedlys skillfully masked their fear because _no way in hell was the Sneedly name going to be tarnished in any way at this school._

“We were just escorting George and helping him get the supplies he needed so he could enter the Invention Convention, just keepin’ him out of trouble Principal K.” Melvin lied cooly. George glanced at Melvin briefly, he just _lied_ to the principal! For George!

“Yeah,” George added, trying not to sound or look surprised, “I was just lookin’ for--”

Mr. Krupp shook his head, interrupting him with condescending tsks. “Oh, George, George, George…” Mr. Krupp sure didn’t look as sorry as he mockingly sounded. He tore an Invention Convention flier off of the wall and held it close so the four boys could see the text on it. “You and your friend Harold are _banned_ from every future Invention Convention.” Mr. Krupp pointed to very small, very fine print at the bottom of the flier that read; _“From this Invention Convention to Jerome Horwitz’s very last, George Beard and Harold Hutchins are banned from setting foot on school grounds on any day that an Invention Convention is scheduled due to the Turbo Toilet 2000 incident.”_

“Did you _really_ think I’d allow you and your friend to come back after the last stunt you two pulled?” Mr. Krupp asked through a sneering smile.

“Oh.” Lewis said.

“We didn’t know about that,” Melvin said.

"Yeah that is some very fine text you put on that flier." George added.

“Welp, now you do, now why don’t you kids run back along into the cafeteria. _But don’t actually run._ ” Mr. Krupp advised and with that, he walked off on his merry way. Wait, he looked cheery? George and Harold hadn’t checked up on how Mr. Krupp's relationship with their lunch lady was doing, but that seemed like a good sign. And, having Mr. Krupp just walk off without any further pestering was very foreign to George. It seems being outnumbered by students who were best known for being obedient little sheep was a free pass from being preyed on by their principal.

“Aw, rats.” George cursed. “I was actually lookin’ forward to this one.” George thought to himself that Harold would be just as disappointed as he himself now that they wouldn’t be able to glue Mr. Krupp to his seat at the convention or witness the result of all the sabotaged inventions now. Well, maybe it was _better_ that they wouldn’t be there to see it.

“Don’t feel bad, George,” Marvin said, “We can give you a glimpse by demonstrating _our_ invention for you!” 

“Oh, good, Lewis’ stomach is probably eating itself right now.” Lewis said as he eagerly grabbed George’s hand.

“What? Wait a minute!” George protested as Marvin grabbed his other hand and lead him away from the art room with Lewis. “Hold on--” George glanced back to the padlocked door as he got farther and farther from it, “ _you guys,_ we don’t have much time left I need black paint and paint brushes!” George let the soles of his shoes slide on the floor, the Sneedlys were much stronger than they looked.

“Oh, I’m sure we could _draw some up_ for you in the room the staff let us borrow!” Marvin winked at his brothers. Melvin, who was following closely behind, scowled in alarm.

“Yeah! We got that old room that used to be used for chem experiments all to ourselves for this one!” Lewis bragged.

“Wait-” Melvin said.

“She’s a pretty big deal,” Marvin added.

“ _Hold on--_ ” Melvin said again.

“She? What does she do?” George asked, he was intrigued now.

“You’ll see!” Lewis and Marvin said, tugging harder on George’s arms to slide him faster behind them.

“No. _No!_ We’re not encouraging _any_ of this immature behavior we’re above this you two!” Melvin squawked. Marvin squealed excitedly, ignoring his brother.

“You promised Lewis we’d make lunch with Patsy after we found out what Marvin and George were doing.” Lewis reminded his baby brother.

“ARGH!!” Melvin cried out in defeat. He trailed behind his two brothers and George.

“Who’s Patsy?!” George asked, wanting more clarification on the moment at hand.

___

 

“Get ready to feast your eyes!” Marvin cried out as the little herd arrived at the entrance of the unused lab room. “Lewis and Melvin and I have been working on this baby all year, she’s lookin’ pretty good!”

“She’ll revolutionize the world,” Lewis sighed dreamily. Marvin and Lewis let go of George. All four of them entered the neglected old chemistry room, Melvin flicked on the lights and Marvin rushed to their machine who was safe underneath a protective white sheet. Lewis joined him.

“She?” George asked.

“We call her the PATSY 2000,” Melvin proudly blurted from his spot behind George. Now that George was freed from the other two brothers, he sidestepped away from Melvin. “Patsy for short.”

“A machine that’ll revolutionize the world, and you guys named it _PATSY???_ ” George asked.

“Yeah!” The Sneedly triplets replied as if on cue.

“PATSY stands for Photo-Atomic Trans-Somgobulating Yectofantriplutonic-zanziptomizer.” Marvin informed him.

“Yeesh,” George said, bringing a hand to his face to jokingly make sure his head wasn’t physically spinning. “I’m sorry I asked,” he teased. Melvin scoffed and started to walk away to join his other two brothers near Patsy. George grabbed Melvin by his shirt sleeve to stop him. “Hey, wait a minute,” George said.

“What?” Melvin asked, easily freeing his shirt sleeve from George’s grasp.

“You lied for me back there and kept me outta trouble! What gives?”

Melvin furrowed his brow at George, a corner of his mouth curled up. “Don’t thank me so soon, Beard,” Melvin said, rolling his eyes. “I was only doing it because I’m not letting even the tiniest clump of dirt touch the Sneedly name at this school. You were simply endangering that and I needed to do something in order to keep us all out of trouble.”

George nodded his head slowly. “Well, thanks anyway.” He said before strutting off to Lewis and Marvin who stood proudly beside Patsy.

Melvin watched George join his two brothers and help them uncover Patsy. “ _Now_ he thanks me for trying to keep him out of trouble,” Melvin muttered to himself under his breath. “What is this guy’s _problem?_ ”

Once Patsy was uncovered, George stared at her for a while, thoughtfully holding his chin.

“ _Well?_ ” Melvin asked impatiently as he joined them too, standing behind Patsy so he could see George’s face.

“It’s a copying machine with a giant lightbulb attached.” George said to the Sneedly triplets’ dismay. “What’s it do?”

“What does she _do?_ ” Lewis repeated.

“Ol’ Patsy here makes live copies of any image you give her.” Melvin explained. “Photos, drawings, you name it!”

“We made a snail with her last night,” Marvin added.

“You mean, a real live snail that slithers around?” George asked. Marvin nodded.

“Her name’s Nancy.” Marvin said. 

“Wait, so you guys are saying we could draw a bucket of black paint and some paint brushes, let Patsy copy the image, and she would give us an actual bucket of black paint and paint brushes??”

“Yes!” Marvin answered.

“But we’re not doing that.” Melvin added.

“ _Yes we are Melvin!_ And you can hide them in here for later, George, no one comes in here except for us.” Marvin said.

“Wow, thanks, you guys!” George smiled.

“ _NO!_ ” Melvin shouted. “No _thanks!_ We’re NOT assisting George and Harold with their criminalistic endeavors!”

“ _You’re_ gonna call _us_ criminalistic?” George said. “Marvin, Lewis, remember when Melvin ditched you two to help Professor Poopypants turn everybody into mindless unlaughing zombies?”

Melvin’s stomach dropped at the sight of Marvin and Lewis’ somber expressions. “ _George!_ ” 

“Melvin apologized to us for that,” Lewis said.

George realised he must’ve reopened a wound with that statement. He swallowed hard and thought of something else to say. _Whoops._ “My bad, forget I said that,”

Melvin gave George a stare that said; _“I won’t.”_ Mega whoops.

“It’s okay, George.” Marvin said. 

It was clearly not okay. George recognized, and unfortunately a little too late because Melvin looked like he wanted to eradicate George from existence, that he should probably stop poking at these three like they were a wasp’s nest and he was a redneck with a big stick who noticed a wasp’s nest on his house.

“Let’s get you your supplies now!” Marvin said, swinging his backpack off of his shoulders and opening it to retrieve drawing paper and a pencil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There ain't nothing you could ask, I could answer you but I won't  
> I was gonna change but I'm not if you keep doing things I don't"


	9. Nice Bee Movie Reference

George unfortunately failed to remember he needed mustard as well. It was too late when he did, but he could always get mustard from where he was currently headed now; Harold’s house! George had been waiting all day for this very moment, and he caught himself more than once nearly getting into an accident on his skateboard on the way there from school. Hitting a few bumps, getting caught at the mini concrete mountain where a tree’s root was nestled that George and Harold were typically careful to hop over and nearly dropping off the sidewalk into the street weren’t going to wipe the little boy’s smile away. His mind was occupied with what he’d tell Harold first. George couldn’t help but feel ecstatic as he passed his own house and arrived at Harold’s. He hopped off of his skateboard and haphazardly left it in the front yard, trotting through the grass to the front door and giving it a passionate knocking.

After ten or so seconds had passed, Harold’s mother opened the door and peered down at George. “Hello, George.” Ms. Hutchins greeted him.

“Hi Mama Hutchins, is it alright if I visit Harold?” She saw it in his eyes, redness from going without sleep. Ms. Hutchins was concerned but decided against turning George away. He was, in a sense, like her third child after all. 

“Sweetie, aren’t you tired? Harold’s still dead asleep right now, but you can nap with him if you’d like.”

“I think I’ve pushed past the bodily need for sleep at this point, I’m probably a demigod with no weaknesses now.”

Ms. Hutchins chuckled and stepped aside to let George in. “Well, Harold’s slept for a while now so you can wake him up if you like. But even demigods need their beauty rest.”

George stepped in and respectfully removed his shoes. “I’m already beautiful! You can’t spell gorgeous without George, after all.” Ms. Hutchins laughed again. George slipped his backpack off of his shoulders next and let it sit over his shoes.

“You two stay inside, okay? I have to pick Heidi up.”

George scampered off for the stairs. “Alright, I’ll see you later Mama Hutchins.” He called before racing up the steps for his best friend’s bedroom. He was very familiar with how and where the tan carpeted floor of Harold’s house creaked, he softly padded along in his socks the rest of the way. George realised it wouldn’t matter if he let his steps creak along the floor when hearing Harold’s peaceful snoring increasing in volume as he approached the bedroom. He more loosely arrived at the doorway and peeked into Harold's room. Golden rays of sun poured in from the window and illuminated the room, it intensified the grassy green of the surrounding walls, even bleeding a little into his hair and making some of it look as if it were glowing. George quietly entered, focusing on Harold’s sleeping face as he approached and scrambled up from the plush carpet to hop up onto Harold’s bed. He made sure to shake the mattress and disruptively nuzzle the top of his head into his friend. Harold’s face winced at the sudden pressure on his stomach and he grunted in alarm without opening his eyes until he registered that he wasn’t in any danger.

“Huh?” Harold breathed. “Mmm?” 

George excitedly watched Harold’s eyes open. “Wake up, sleepy head!”

“George?” The rest of Harold’s peaceful expression washed away at the peachy tint of the sunlight reflecting off of George’s forehead and bleeding into his room. “Wha, what _time_ is it?” He asked.

“School got out half a hour ago, it’s three somethin’ now.”

Harold launched up into a sitting position infront of his friend. “Your parents made you stay at school all day?!” George pushed Harold back down with a flattened palm and laid himself down as well, letting an ear plop down onto Harold’s chest.

“No, they said I could stay home, but I needed to make sure we had the things we would need to fix Ms. Ribble’s banner with later.” George explained, closing his eyes.

“Jeez, what would I do without you, George? I fell asleep in the shower and I was done for and you stayed at school all day and broke into the art room while I did nothing.” Harold said, one of his hands found their way to the back of George’s head and idly slid its pads over the stubbly fade.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Harold.” George said, head easing back into Harold’s hand. Harold’s fingers soothingly raked over George’s scalp. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you needed to sleep, that’s all. Heck, I fell asleep on a piece of pizza during lunch. I didn’t even break into the art room.” He confessed.

“So you couldn’t get the black paint or paint brushes, huh?” Harold asked, tracing circles into George’s scalp with the tips of his fingers. George’s eyes opened though Harold wouldn’t be able to see his face.

“Oh no, I got them. I actually wanted to tell you about what the Sneedlys and I did after we slept,” George sat up to look at Harold’s face, “but do you wanna hear about it now?” he asked excitedly at the sight of the curious glint in Harold’s eyes.

“ _Yeah_ I do!” Harold said.

“I’ll tell ya if you keep petting my head.” George bargained.

Harold puffed. “Fine.” To George’s delight, Harold’s palm plopped back in place atop his head and softly ruffled the dark curly puffs of his flat top. He smilingly laid back down over Harold who continued to massage patterns into his scalp with the tips of his fingers. George ignored the goosebumps that tidal waved over his skin in response. Man, house pets had it easy with their owners feeding them and _petting them like this_ all the time. “So how did you guys manage to get black paint and paint brushes without breaking into the art room?”

“I’ll get to that,” George said, “but before I tell ya _that_ story, I have to tell ya _this_ story.”

“You’re _killing_ me with suspense, Mr. Beard.”

“Patience, Mr. Hutchins.” George advised. “Okay, so,” he began, eyes closed again, “Marvin and Lewis woke me up when I was sleepin’ away on a piece of pizza and gave me-- Oh, that’s right.” George stopped himself.

Harold’s hand faltered a second before tracing more circles into George’s hair. “ _What’s_ right?” 

“Marvin and Lewis already got alotta your homework done, and they gave it to me to give to you since you were gone.” George recalled. “Man, I totally forgot and left my backpack downstairs!”

“We can get it later.” Harold said, softly patting George’s head.

“Mm,” George’s eyes closed again. “Anyway, after that, Marvin and I went to go break into the art room.”

“No way! A _Sneedly_ assisting you in going somewhere that’s technically off limits?!”

“I know, he’s an angel.” George praised before continuing his story. “While I was picking the lock and Marvin was on lookout, I guess Lewis spilled the beans to Melvin because I told those two what I was planning on doing while Melvin was getting lunch. So he and Lewis come running at us from the other end of the hallway and Marvin’s all tappin’ my shoulder because he’s too scared of Melvin to do his job right.”

Harold gasped, mindlessly petting George’s head with more intensity. “Did Melvin tell on you to Mr. Krupp?!”

“Nonono! _You’re not gonna believe this when I get to it--_ So Melvin’s all screamin’ in the hallway and we get into a fight--”

“Did you punch him good? Make him talk to the tie?”

“Wha?” George laughed. “No not like that, I would _never_ harm such a feeble life form.” Harold laughed hard at that, boy did it feel good to make Harold laugh that way, it was like honking and the maniacal laughter of a flamboyant anime villain from the 80s.

“I knew you wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses,” Harold jested.

“You know me well.” George admitted. “Nah, we just shouted at eachother cuz I wanted him to leave cuz I thought he’d tattle on me too.”

“Did you guys insult eachother?” Harold asked.

“I called him a goblin.”

“HE IS!” Harold exclaimed.

“Lemme finish the story! So while Melvin’s yelling in the middle of the quiet hallway, _naturally_ he attracts Mr. Krupp over like a magnet! OW!” 

Harold retracted his hand. “Sorry! Did I scratch you?!”

“Don’t worry about it, I have a really sensitive scalp. No more petting ‘till I’m done with the story.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Harold joked, getting a grunt-worthy shove in the ribs from George’s head.

“So Mr. Krupp asks the Sneedlys if I’m givin’ ‘em any trouble, right? And Melvin says ‘Aw, no we’re just escorting George around to help him get what he needs for the Invention Convention to keep him outta trouble!’ And then he called him somethin’ stupid like Mr. K or whatever.”

“You’re joking, what actually happened?”

“I’m not joking! Melvin lied to the principal to save my hide!”

“He wouldn’t do that!” Harold insisted. “Why would he do that?”

“Well, I asked him and he said it was to keep him and his brothers out of trouble, but if that really were the case he could have just said Marvin was trying to stop me from breaking into the art room and then go off with his brothers while Mr. Krupp dragged me to his office.”

“Huh.” Harold smiled thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s starting to like you more!” He suggested.

George stayed quiet.

“Are you asleep?”

“Uh? No,” George said, “sorry, I uh, I wouldn’t bet on that.”

“Bet on what?”

“Melvin liking me.”

“Why?”

The look on Melvin’s face in reaction to George pulling up a reminder of his involvement of Professor P.’s past perilous plot to his two identical brothers flashed behind his eyelids. Melvin had _really_ looked like he wanted George dead. George’s stomach coiled and he opened his eyes.

“I just wouldn’t bet on it.” George said. 

“I think you’re in denial.” Harold said, ruffling George’s hair with two hands now.

“Mmmph,” George mumbled, eyes closed. “You wanna hear about how we got the black paint and paint brushes now?”

“Yeah!” Harold stopped ruffling George’s hair.

“The Sneedlys used their machine for the Invention Convention, it’s a copying machine that makes live copies out of any image you give it!”

“No way, they had to have been hustling you.”

“Hm, I guess they could have been, they’re a pretty brainy bunch.” George agreed. “What’s say when we go sabotage all the other inventions we take old Patsy for a spin to see if it’s for real or not?”

“Patsy?”

“They named their machine Patsy.”

“If it really works, it seems like it’d change the world like the invention of the toilet, why on Earth would they name it Patsy??” George shrugged at Harold’s question.

“Oh, also we’re banned from the Invention Convention.”

“ _Whaat?_ ” Harold whined. “Now what are we gonna do with all that body heat activated glue?!”

“Well, look on the bright side, atleast we’re banned from _all_ Invention Conventions from now on!” 

Harold laughed. “You make a strong point, Mr. Beard.” He said before going back to softly tracing winding shapes into George’s scalp. George inhaled deeply, stretching serene over Harold and then nestling himself as if he could be buried in his friend. 

“Yes I do.” George sighed, muffled by Harold’s blanket cloaked body.

“You wanna get under the covers?” Harold asked, hand finally settling on George’s back and staying still.

“Noo…” George’s head sluggishly shook against Harold for emphasis, evoking a soft giggle from his friend. A string of mischievous giggles bubbled out of George likewise. Without lifting his head, he let his hands which had recently been limp on either side of the two pinch both of Harold’s sides through the blanket. Harold squeaked, kicking under George in alarm.

“NO!” Harold declined. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE TIRED!”

George lifted his head to look at his fluffy haired friend who was grinning from ear to ear despite his complaints. “I am, but I like it when you’re happy.” George prodded Harold’s sides once more, getting him to chuckle obnoxiously and jerk as if George’s hands were defibrillators.

“DUDE!!” Harold cried out. “ _Please don’t._ ”

“Fine.” George flopped his face back into Harold’s chest. _Then it hit him, _he quickly lifted his head back up from its spot on Harold and thought aloud; “Gorgeous only has one e in it.”__

____

____

Harold roared out a fake snore and George gave him a malicious smirking glare. He prodded Harold’s sides again. “ACK!” Harold jerked, eyes snapping open. George burst into laughter at Harold’s embarrassed expression. The fluffy headed boy narrowed his eyes at George and he returned the favor. George shouted and jumped to stand over Harold, eliciting a few audible creaks from Harold’s plush mattress as he balanced on his feet. Harold sat up and stubbornly prodded George in the stomach.

“Ehee!” George doubled over, accidentally headbutting Harold. They both cried out in pain and laid back down on the bed. 

“Okay I think I’m ready to sleep now,” Harold said, rubbing the top of his head.

“Me too, sorry about that.” George apologized through a yawn. Within five seconds, the two little boys were in a deep sleep. Harold’s mouth hung open, snoring contently away. George had practically melted into Harold with his face completely buried in his friend’s stomach.

___

George awoke to the feeling of the bed going off balance; someone else was climbing on. He blinked his eyes open to see tiny hands gripping Harold’s blanket, then a full head of curly blonde hair. “Heidi?” George croaked.

Harold and George had come to at the same time, and George learned this as soon as Harold shouted; “ _Heidi!_ ”

“Why are you guys asleep when it’s not even night time yet?” Heidi asked.

“We’re tired, dum-dum.” Harold retorted. “Why are you in my room?”

“Because you guys look cozy.” Heidi said.

George lifted one of his arms for Heidi to squeeze underneath. “Come cuddle with us then sis.” Heidi wrathfully jumped ontop of George. “ARGH!” George grunted.

“See this is why Heidi isn’t allowed in my room she just likes ruining things!” Harold explained.

“That’s not true!” Heidi said perched atop George’s back.

“Man I’d rather be eaten by a giant carnivorous dandylion than die from blunt spine trauma applied by a four year old.” George agonized.

“Heidi you’re ruining George right now!” Harold said. “Get off of him!” He shoved at his sister.

“No! He's soft and I like him.” Heidi protested, keeping her knees burrowed deep in George’s back. George groaned painfully into Harold’s stomach.

“MOM!” Harold yelled. Heidi launched herself off of George to cover Harold’s mouth. 

“Don’t tell mom on me!” Heidi whined. Harold licked Heidi’s hand and she retracted her palm with a squeal. “EEEWWW!” She wiped her hand off on George’s shirt.

“What did you just wipe on me?!” George asked, face still buried in Harold’s stomach.

“HAROLD LICKED MY HAND!” Heidi announced.

“ _AW, NO! SOMEBODY ELSE’S SALIVA!_ ” George screamed into Harold’s stomach.

“HEIDI GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” Harold barked.

“YOU’RE DISGUSTING!” Heidi ignored her brother.

“SALIVAAA!!!!” George sat up, scrunching in his shirt as if he were a cat with constricting clothes on.

“ _HEIDI!_ ” Harold yelled again.

“WHAT, _HAROLD?_ ” Heidi scowled at her brother.

Harold and Heidi momentarily stopped bickering when they heard the unpleasant sound of George retching at maximum volume. “George don’t throw up!” Harold said, unable to restrain a smirk at his friend’s discomfort with spit. He touched George’s shoulder.

“I’m tryin’ not to!” George said, gagging again and anxiously waving his hands. “ _I can’t stop thinkin’ about it._ ”

“Look at that Heidi, that’s your fault!” Harold scolded, focusing his attention on Heidi once again. George scrambled off of Harold’s bed and hastily fiddled with his tie to undo it. “You ruined George! You always ruin everything!” 

“I do not!” Heidi defended herself.

“Ya do too!” Harold argued.

As Harold and Heidi continued to argue, George moved faster to remove the top articles of clothing from his body. After being a part of the Hutchins family for so long, George knew very well that whenever Harold and Heidi fought they would subconciously engage in a contest of who could scream the loudest. To George, Harold and Heidi combined were louder than the fire alarms at Jerome Horwitz, and those fire alarms were _ear splitting_. He slipped his tie off in record speed and began unbuttoning his shirt. Once the shirt was off he threw it on the tan carpet floor over his tie. Then he sighed in relief and plugged his ears in anticipation. Just in time.

“Do NOT!” Heidi raised her voice.

“Do TOO!” Harold said in a louder tone.

“DO NOT!!” Heidi shouted.

“DO _TOO!!_ ” Harold’s voice crackled.

“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” Ms. Hutchins squalled from the doorway. The trio jumped at the sound of her voice.

“Heidi isn’t supposed to be in my room!” Harold pouted. “She jumped on George and then wiped spit off on his shirt!” He accused, rightfully so. Ms. Hutchins’ eyes confusedly fluttered from Heidi to George who was shirtless, tie and shirt in a heap beside him on the floor and with his ears plugged. George blushed and offered Ms. Hutchins an embarrassed smile, he unplugged his ears and waved at her.

“Harold licked my hand and yelled at me!” Heidi added.

“ _Both of you._ ” Ms. Hutchins said in a terrible voice. “Come here.” All three children exchanged uneasy looks. George awkwardly shifted in place as the two siblings climbed off of Harold’s bed and shamefully trudged to their mother. “Harold, Heidi,” Ms. Hutchins said, “you both need to be more considerate of George, screaming at eachother doesn’t help anything.”

“Sorry, mom,” Harold and Heidi apologized.

“What are you apologizing to _me_ for? I’m not the one who doesn’t like germs or loud noises.” Ms. Hutchins snapped.

Harold and Heidi then looked at George, feeling dumb and faces equally red.

“Sorry, George,” Harold said.

"Yeah, sorry."

George gracelessly smiled at the blonde siblings, letting out a faint chuckle.

“Harold, give George one of your shirts, he looks uncomfortable. And don’t lick your sister’s hand.” Ms. Hutchins said, taking Heidi’s hand in hers.

Harold walked away from his mother. He stopped at George’s side and smiled at him apologetically. “Sorry about my sister,”

“It’s okay, she does her own thing.” George said. They watched Ms. Hutchins quietly exit the room holding Heidi’s hand, and softly shutting the door. “Wow. Your mom is like, really intimidating.”

“I know!” Harold said. “How much trouble do you think Heidi is in for jumping on you?”

“I have no idea man, so what was your mom saying about lending me a shirt?”

Harold uneasily rocked on his heels. “Are you sure you want one of my shirts? My only dress shirt has fancy shrimp sauce stains on it and everything else is t shirts, not gonna work too well with the tie.”

“I’ll make it work with the tie.” George assured Harold.

“Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of all that muscle.” Harold tried again. George giggled.

“I’m gettin’ cold, Harol’.” George playfully whined.

“Okay, okay.” Harold made his way to his half-open closet. He walked in and looked up at the hanging articles of clothing - clean and untouched. Truth be told, the one Harold was wearing right now, the green and white striped t shirt, was Harold’s favorite; he rarely ever wore a different one. He hadn’t worn any other shirt in the closet he stood in now in weeks. Harold’s eyes scanned the desolate, lonely shirts until they reached where a few costumes hung. His expression practically lit up the dark, cobweb filled crevice when his eyes snagged on something that was black and yellow. George watched as Harold disappeared completely into his closet to slip whatever he had picked for George off of its hanger. His eager smile dissipated when Harold emerged with the chosen.

“Harol’. I trusted you.” George said.

“But I thought you _liked_ bees!” Harold said with a sadistic smile.

“ _Not to this extent!!_ ” George clarified, extending his arms at the piece of an old bumblebee costume Harold was holding up for his friend to see. It had long black sleeves, the torso was black with yellow stripes and the back sported obnoxious wings lined with wire so they would stand proud and perky. Harold laughed, wiggling the shirt in his grip.

“Ya like jazz?” Harold asked.

“PICK A DIFFERENT SHIRT!” George cackled.

“Nooo you’d be so cute running around in this!” 

“Harold Hutchins, I can’t bee-lieve you.” 

“Buzz buzz put it on.” Harold tossed the shirt to George who caught it. The top was so old and unused, it had a special air about it that said _someone died in this_ even though that clearly wasn’t the case.

“Buzz buzz, sigh.”

“Buzz buzz I love you George.”

“I love you too you big yellow haired jerk.” George grumbled, slipping an arm into its respective sleeve before tugging the rest of the shirt over his head. After George slipped his other arm into its sleeve and popped his head through the neck hole, Harold stood before him with his beloved red and gold striped tie.

“Your tie, good sir.” 

George smirkingly yanked it out of Harold’s hand. “I look like a clown because’a you.”

“What world are you livin’ in with clowns lookin’ like bees?”

“Shut it smartypants.”

___

**Click.**

Light filtered into the dishwasher to reveal its untenanted skeleton to Lewis Sneedly, who previously was looking for a clean fork. He growled in frustration. “Someone forgot whose turn it was to do the dishes last night!” Lewis called from the kitchen. Outside, it was twilight, and the Sneedly Triplets were doing their own thing before bed; Melvin was putting on his pajamas, Marvin was pushing himself to finish more of Harold’s homework, and Lewis was interested in indulging himself in a before-bed snack.

Melvin poked his head out of the bathroom, he stopped buttoning up his pink flannel pajama shirt to shout: “Marvin!”

“Oh!” Marvin could be heard crying from the triplet’s shared bedroom. The fast paced thumps of his little feet got louder as he ran into the living room. “I’m sorry, Lewis!” Marvin apologized. “I think I’ve been immersing myself in Harold’s homework too much lately.” He realized he was still holding a pencil in his hand as he said that.

Melvin finished the last four buttons on his shirt and gave his identical brother a snarky look. “Ya think?” He asked before going back into the bathroom and closing the door. Marvin’s rosy cheeks turned a darker rosy tint.

Lewis sidled out of the kitchen and into the living room to face Marvin and say: “Well it’s _Melvin’s_ turn now.” Marvin and Lewis stared at eachother in silence for a few minutes. “IT’S MELVIN’S TURN NOW!” Lewis raised his voice.

“Hold your horses!” Melvin called from the bathroom.

Marvin smiled at Lewis. “Melvin’s turn!” Marvin repeated, getting a grin out of Lewis.

“Melvin’s turn, Melvin’s turn!” Lewis said. Marvin and Lewis smiled wider at eachother.

“I SAID HOLD YOUR HORSES!” Melvin yapped.

The two Sneedlys pranced around the living room in a circle, chanting an endless chorus of “ _Melvin’s turn!_ ”'s until the doorknob to the bathroom rattled and Melvin swung the door open in frustration. Marvin and Lewis had stopped dead in their tracks, Marvin had just hopped onto the living room couch and Lewis was in the middle of stepping onto the coffee table.

“I’M GETTING TO IT!” Melvin cried out. Marvin and Lewis giggled excitedly, jumping from their spots and tackling Melvin to the ground. Melvin shouted as his brothers collided with him and knocked him onto the floor. “YOU GUYS ARE SO IMMATURE!!” He whined. Marvin and Lewis only hooted and snorted with laughter. “GET OFF OF ME YOU ANIMALS!” Melvin ordered, kicking at his overzealous brothers. “ _Let me do the dishes!!_ ” His brothers wouldn’t listen, they latched onto his ankles and dragged him across the floor. Melvin screamed in protest, clawing at the floor boards. Unfortunately, the three were so loud they failed to hear someone rushing up the stairs.

“BOYS!” Mrs. Sneedly shouted over the commotion. Melvin's brothers dropped his ankles faster than a handful of molten lava.

“MOMMY THEY’VE GONE INSANE!” Melvin cried. 

“Oh, _please,_ ” Mrs. Sneedly pushed her glasses up and pinched at the bridge of her nose in frustration. “ _Marvin, Lewis,_ ” Her voice was sharp and sliced through Marvin and Lewis' impish state. It was like magic that despite both of their parents being absent most of the day _every_ day, they never got their identical sons mixed up. “I don’t know _what_ has gotten into you two but it is far _too late_ for this kind of outlandish behavior. Both of you get your pajamas on and go to bed _immediately._ And don’t make a commotion like that again! You know your father and I need to concentrate.” After that, she turned and headed back down the stairs, stilettos clacking against the hardwood.

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” Marvin and Lewis said loud enough for their mother to hear. Melvin sat up and watched his brothers trail off into their room to retrieve their pajamas like a pair of scorned puppies with their tails between their legs. 

“Mess around with the baby brother, _I don’t think so._ ” Melvin said to himself. 

And now, the dishes.

___

Lewis, propped up against the headboard of his bed with his nose buried in an old chemistry textbook, looked up from a paragraph on the topic of combustion to see Melvin standing beside him. Melvin held up a bag of almonds, a banana, and a ziplock full of sandwich sliced ham for Lewis to take. Lewis gave Melvin a surprised look, setting down his book and taking the snacks out of Melvin’s grip.

“What is that on your nose?” Melvin asked, eyeing the clothespin pinching Lewis’ nose shut. Lewis only pointed behind Melvin. The youngest Sneedly knew exactly what was up when he heard muffled kisses coming from Marvin’s bed. Melvin whipped around to see Marvin under the covers with their cat, Danderella, curled up on Marvin’s chest with her long-haired orange back to his face and his arms around her. 

Marvin pressed more adoring kisses to the tickly back of their family cat. “Who’sa good Dandy-- ah-- huhh,” his head tilted back, the insides of his nostrils itching with irretation.

“MARVIN!” Melvin wailed, startling Marvin out of his sneeze. Marvin and Danderella looked at Melvin.

“Hi Melvin!” Marvin said, sounding stuffy. “You want a clothespin too? _‘CHOO!_ ” The middle brother finally sneezed, jerking Danderella a little, but she didn’t mind.

“GET THAT STUPID CAT OUT OF HERE, YOU’RE BLOWING THE ALLERGENS ALL AROUND AND I’M GONNA HAVE A REACTION TOO!!” Marvin wordlessly held a clothespin out for his brother. “ _NO_ YOU HAVE _CAT HANDS!!_ ” Melvin shrieked.

“Lewis agrees with Melvin, remove the cat.” Lewis said, peeling his banana. Marvin’s gingery eyebrows furrowed and he held tighter onto Danderella, softly scratching her butt. Danderella’s pilose tabby tail swished with delight and she purred.

Melvin pointed to the door. “GET HER OUTTA HERE!”

“Remove the cat, remove the cat, remove the cat!” Lewis chanted.

“Fine!” Marvin said as he sadly pushed Danderella off of himself and rolled out of the covers. Danderella cooed dissapointedly and fussed even more when Marvin picked her up and headed for the door with her. Marvin kissed the top of her head again. “I’m sorry Dandy girl, you gotta go now.” He opened the door with her slung over his shoulder and then spilled her down with the soft thumps of her paws hitting the floor. Marvin quickly shut the door before Danderella could turn around. Marvin sniffed.

“Aw, don’t cry you baby.” Melvin said, sitting on his own bed situated inbetween Marvin’s and Lewis’.

“I’m not crying my nose is really stuffy now,” Marvin explained, darting to his bed to retrieve the box of tissues near his bedside to blow his nose with. Then he scratched at his eyes, only to make them feel more gritty. “Oh no.”

“Yeah. That’s what happens, fur-for-brains.” Melvin said, scratching at his nose. “GREAT. Marvin I’m gonna need some of your tissues soon.”

Lewis, who was still wearing the clothespin pinched tight over his nose, chuckled to himself and went back to his book, chewing happily on a mouthful of banana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't spell "gorgeous" without "Georg" after all.


End file.
